How We Breathe
by justlikebrooke
Summary: She’s drawn to the mirror like a moth to a flame. Enthralled and disgusted at the same time. And silently she succumbs to the daily routine... They’re lying, and therefore she doesn’t have to feel guilty. B/C pairing, starts around ep. 14
1. Happily Never After

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl in any way, shape or form. If I did, ninety percent of the screen-time would be dedicated to Blair/Chuck.

Authors note: I know I shouldn't start any new stories right now, especially when I already have three that needs updating. But I just can't ignore the beauty of B/C any longer. This will be a chapter-story and it starts somewhere around episode 14. Now, without further ado:

* * *

**How We Breathe**

**.¨-¨.**

**Chapter 1 ****– Happily Never After**

Saturday, January 12th 2008

**-b-**

She's drawn to the mirror like a moth to a flame. Enthralled and disgusted at the same time.

Silently she succumbs to the daily routine. Strips herself down to the underwear and critically watches the reflection before her. She knows that what she's seeing is a distorted version of herself. It's her mind playing tricks on her, and the image in the mirror isn't real. At least this was what Serena, her mother and Doctor Sherman had kept telling her the last time. In real life she is apparently thin. Beautiful, dainty and gorgeous. And not anywhere near the bloated girl staring back at her. At least that's what they said.

But the last couple of weeks she has started to think that their reassurances are just empty words, and that the girl in the mirror is more real than they are letting her believe. The chunk of flabby flesh she holds between her fingers can't be something from her imagination, right? She wouldn't be able to grab a piece of her belly like this if this was only because of her distorted self-image…

They're lying, and therefore she doesn't have to feel guilty.

She's been good for months. With the exception of a few setbacks when her father left and when she found out about Nate sleeping with Serena, she hasn't binged, purged or made herself sick since treatment ended a year ago. Her 'condition' has been declared cured. And of course, she's managed this by keeping control, allowing only very small intakes of food, and even then, mostly fruits, vegetables and non-carbs.

But then, about seven weeks ago, the thanksgiving dinner happened. And although she really tried keeping it together, her mother's words just cut through her skin worse than usual. Deeper somehow.

Maybe it had been a combination of her absent father during the important holiday, the stress surrounding her relationship with Nate, and the way she never seemed to be enough in her mother's eyes. Either way, she found herself binge-eating a whole apple-pie straight out of the baking tin. Of course she made herself sick minutes later. And she had been so disappointed in herself when Serena came and found her crying on the bathroom floor. But the disappointed inner voice had fainted over the past weeks, until it was hardly more than a faint slur in her subconscious.

She pinches the fat at her midsection again and wonders if Serena has ever binged. Or shoved fingers down her throat. Probably not. Serena doesn't need to.

It doesn't matter though. She is not Serena and she needs to keep control over something in her life. This is the last sliver of her existence that she actually has some power over. Her body. The rest has gone straight to hell lately.

Kneeling over the porcelain bowl she sticks two fingers down her throat. Her gag-reflex is easily teased after so much practice and in seconds her dinner comes back up. She keeps forcing herself to throw up until she's sure that her stomach is completely empty, before getting up on slightly wobbly legs. Instantly she feels better. Lighter and less bloated.

The voice in her subconscious is hardly audible at all.

She avoids the mirror and simply washes her hands and rinses her mouth. Swallows two of her mom's 'happy-pills' that she found in a forgotten corner of her nightstand and spends a good fifteen minutes under the shower's hot water while they take effect. Then she heads for her enormous walk-in closet and retrieves tonight's outfit.

The black dress makes her look slim and she figures that the dramatically open back will take the attention away from her fat thighs. Sliding the thin and delicate nylon stockings up her legs and fastening them in the black lace garter-belt, she feels a little more relaxed. The hazy feeling from the two tiny tablets is welcomed, and even though she'll probably be drunk before she steps into the party, she needs this to so much as get ready.

And when she finally looks herself in the mirror a little while later, she almost thinks she looks pretty. _Almost_.

Serena, who just glides in through the door at least says she does. Gushes and awes and says that _this_ is the Blair Waldorf she knows.

She smiles of course. Says that this old dress is nothing and that Serena is looking fabulous. But on the inside she can't help but cringe at the comment, because it means that either Serena really doesn't know her, or that she has been this slightly drugged up bulimic so long that it has become the real her.

To wash away the thought she pours champagne into two crystal flutes and hands one to her blond best friend. Serena, who really doesn't drink anymore, raises her glass slightly and smiles before taking a big gulp, and in some weird way she likes the fact that Serena is ready to go against Dan's wishes to make her feel better. Just so that she won't have to drink alone.

"Cheers to the life of an outcast" she says and takes a sip herself, and Serena laughs.

"Don't be so dramatic B. You know you're still the queen around here. People just need some time to digest your little love-triangle. I bet it'll all be back to normal tonight."

The blonde nods for emphasis and she shrugs back. Doesn't really care. It's been the same for two weeks now, ever since Serena convinced her not to get on that plane to France. No one other than Serena and Brooklyn talks to her at school. Nate goes out of his way to avoid her, and she has stopped looking him in the eyes, feeling way too tired of the constant disgust she sees there.

Although his eyes are not the ones she fears the most.

In the corner of her eye she sees the Erickson-Beaman necklace lying on its velvet bed in the box on her dresser. And she absentmindedly fingers the bare skin at her neck.

Something so beautiful deserves to be seen on someone worthy of its beauty…

She hasn't worn the necklace since that night. She is not worthy. Chuck made sure she understood that the night when she sought him out at the Palace bar.

Suddenly she feels nauseous again. And she can literally feel her body swell in the confinement of the slinky dress. Even though she knows that her stomach is completely empty, she still wishes that she could return to her earlier position hunched over the toilet.

But she can't, not since Serena is there and her friend would force her to go see Doctor Sherman the second she even tried shoving her index-finger down her throat. Instead she downs the entire glass of Moët and refills it. Hides her fear of leaving the apartment behind Serena's happy rambling about her precious Dan and their latest little outing.

The bubbly champagne finally starts to numb her, but it's not enough. There's a new voice in her subconscious and it keeps whispering.

_Not pretty enough. Too fat. Too clingy and co-dependent. _

_Dirty, disgusting and inferior. _

_Not good enough or smart enough._

_Not worthy… _

And when they are about to leave and she empties her second glass in one mouthful, she sees Serena watch her.

Her blonde friend's eyes are full of pity. And that's when she realizes that Serena knows it too.

**-c-**

It's the same as always.

The same people, same music, same lame ass cocktails and boring mingle. The same secret looks and 'ready to go' camera phones. Upper East Side is his home, but lately he's not sure he even likes it.

He's late to the party, but then again he always is. Usually he enjoys making a grand entrance, preferably with a gorgeous and easy girl on each arm, but tonight he settles for staying in the shadows and observing. After all, observing is one of the things Chuck Bass does best.

The usual glass of whiskey is securely tucked in his right hand while he plays with his scarf with the left.

He could kill for a blunt. He could kill for… well; he could kill for a lot of things.

Nate is here of course. His best friend is currently talking to that little skank Jenny Humphrey and he's seemingly enjoying it too. Nathaniel, his _best_ friend that no longer wants that title, even though the last week it has at least not been open war anymore. The glares and insults are now down to a mutual ignoring, and tonight they even managed a civil 'hello'.

Progress?

Maybe, but he's not sure he wants it anymore. At least not this way.

Kati and Is are on the dancefloor, behaving like fools as usual. And he thinks that he can spot Carter at the bar, but he has no desire to attract the cocky Basin-heir so he looks away. Keeps scanning the 'dressed to the T' crowd of spoiled teenagers. He doesn't see _her_ and he is disappointed. This is the second big event in the social calendar that she's missing from.

It amazes him.

Blair Waldorf _never_ misses an important party. And tonight is after all the annual Beginning of Spring-term Mixer.

Swirling the whiskey at the bottom of the glass, he thinks that it's not that he wants to talk to her, or even that he's worried. It's more as if her absence is making him uneasy.

When Blair is around, like in school; then he can concentrate on avoiding her or ignore her. She is _there_ never the less, and her presence helps him pretend that life is still _normal_. When she is around he can hate her and plan how to ruin her further. Plot how to make her regret playing with him the way she had. And he can concentrate on keeping the butterflies dead and in their tiny little coffins.

When she's _not_ around he's forced to acknowledge that she is absent, therefore in a way acknowledge _her_.

God, he thinks way too much.

He kicks back the last of the whiskey and heads for the smaller bar in the corner. Another drink and maybe then he should just call it a night? Lately, parties suck anyways, because truthfully, without Nathaniel and Blair it's just not fun.

He bumps into someone and looks up when hearing "Hey man, take it easy!"

He sighs. The last person he wants to engage in any type of conversation with is the fucking loser from Brooklyn. Serena's stupid savior.

"Shut up Hedgley, or whatever your fucking name is" he hisses, a lot more annoyed than he should be. "Why are you even here? Haven't your tiny brain recognized that blondie isn't around?"

Dan looks back at him with the same annoying look he always sports. The one that tries to say; 'I'm don't care because I'm more mature than this'. And when lonely-boy corrects him with; "Humphrey. My name is still _Dan Humphrey_", he hears himself huff in an annoyed way.

"I. Don't. Care."

There's no real reason for him to be this angry. He just doesn't like the guy, and pushing past Dan he orders another drink in an attempt to cool off. But it makes him curious though. What is the guy doing here when the infamous Ms. Van der Woodsen is nowhere to be seen?

When he turns back around, Dan is still standing there and he raises an eyebrow and smirks.

"You don't know where she is, right? You _thought_ that my dearest future step-sister would be here, and she's not. That's pathetic…"

Dan's long face tells him that he's right and he can't help but let out a dry chuckle. Especially when he suddenly sees the blonde.

"Watch out Henley… Serena's trading up."

Dan gets ready to correct him again but he points towards the other end of the room and Dan follows his gaze to where Serena is walking across the dance-floor towards Nate.

"You better go _save_ her" he says in a bored tone and gulps down half the new glass of whiskey. "She does look kind of _drunk_, don't you think?"

Dan sends him a death glare that almost impresses him and disappears quickly towards the girl. And he leans against the bar and goes back to playing with his scarf.

If even Serena is here, then where the _hell_ is Blair?

**-s-**

She's not drunk. Not like she used to be anyways. A little tipsy maybe, but she can walk and talk without struggling, and she's very aware of her surroundings. Very.

One that isn't so aware though, is Blair. And they way her friend is acting is kind of scaring her. Blair never gets _too_ drunk, she's always in control, always the one that manages the situation and is in charge. Blair's always been the one to take care of _her_ in the past, whether it was getting her home when she was once again wasted beyond belief, or if it meant lending a shoulder or some kind of advise when she had problems.

The only time she had really needed to be there for Blair, the only time Blair had ever really cracked, was when Blair's 'condition' was discovered. And they were through that rough patch, right? Blair was fine now, wasn't she?

She _has_ to believe that the thanksgiving-episode was a one-timer.

As she walks over the dance floor, she knows that there were more times when Blair had really needed her. When her father left, for example. Or when Nate told her that he had cheated on her and slept with someone else. But both of those times she had been useless in the 'best friends' aspect. The first time because she felt so guilty that she fled to Connecticut and the second time because that 'someone else' that Nate slept with had been herself.

She hurries her steps a little, and while walking towards Blair's ex boyfriend, she scans the room for a sight of Dan. In the back of her mind she knows that she should have been here a while ago and that there is a big risk that he's around here somewhere, looking for her, but she has to make sure Blair is okay first.

"Nate…" she says and touches his arm, and he turns.

She wishes that Blair hadn't asked her to get him. She knows that he is still too angry to help out. She'd much rather just call Dan. But she has promised Blair not to. Blair doesn't want people to know.

Nate smiles. It's obvious that he's drunk. Not high, just too wasted.

"Serena! I was just thinking about you."

She smiles back, a little stiff, but still. And she nods towards Jenny, curtly but yet with a glare that tells the younger blonde to get lost. And Jenny looks down into the floor and backs away.

She still can't believe how Dan's sweet little sister could be manipulating enough to not only eavesdrop on hers and Dan's private conversation, but also to run off to Nate and tell him all about it. To say that she's disappointed in Jenny is an understatement to say the least. And during the last couple of weeks, when the younger girl has basically done everything in her power to climb the social ladder even further, that disappointment has only grown.

"Listen Nate, I need to talk to you for a bit, okay?"

He nods happily, but when she ads; "It's about Blair…", then his smile drops and he face gets a bored expression.

"I'm done talking about her."

"Please, Nate? She could really use a friend and I could _really_ use a hand with her… She's not doing good."

"Not my problem, Serena. Why don't you ask… I don't know… _Chuck_?"

He says the name sarcastically and she sighs. Nate is just as aware as she is that Chuck is the one that treats Blair the worst right now, and frankly she hates Chuck for it. He was just as guilty of creating this mess as Blair was, and yet during the last weeks he has acted as if Blair is just another one of his little whores that he can feel free to ignore.

"I mean it, Nate" she presses, ignoring his last remark. "You need to help me with Blair. I think… I don't know where to take her…"

For a second Nate's eyes looks worried. He frowns almost unnoticeably, but it's just for a second. Then he nonchalantly turns back to where Jenny just stood.

"As I said; not my problem. Call your little boyfriend instead. I bet he'll be happy to be your knight in shining armor. Maybe Blair can screw him too? That way you both will be even…"

His eyebrow shoots up at her meaningly, but behind the hard tone he speaks with, she thinks she's hearing hurt. It still annoys her that he can be such a hypocrite, act as if he is the poor victim.

"Come on Nate. Blair…"

She doesn't even get to finish the sentence this time. He just cuts her off with an irritated sigh.

"Blair Waldorf can fend for herself, Serena. She is not a child."

Then he leaves. And something about the stiffness in his shoulders, and the way his hands ball into tight fists at his sides, tells her that maybe he still _does_ care. Just not the way her best friend hopes.

She watches him walk away before she picks up her cell phone to call Dan, and she realizes that Blair is going to kill her when she doesn't return with Nate, but instead with _Cabbage Patch_. That is if her friend is even lucid enough to realize. If she is, then she's pretty much screwed anyway since she has already entrusted the well-being of her best friend in the hands of her boyfriend's best friend. _Vanessa_.

This whole night is turning into a freaking circus.

She puts the phone to her ear, but before the signals are even going through, she can hear Dan's voice right behind her.

"Serena. Where have you been?" His arms snake around her waist, pulling her body close to him. "I've been calling you for over an hour… I even sent Vanessa out to look for you. I mean, she was going out to get some air anyways…"

He kisses the side of her neck lightly and she shivers. Wonders if he notices that she's been drinking.

"Well… about that…" she answers and turns in his arms, gently breaking free from his hold, "I kind of ran into her. And well… I think I need your help."

His facial expression says that he knows already that he's not going to like this. But he doesn't object or ask questions. Instead he grabs her hand and motions for her to lead the way. Knows that she is serious.

He wouldn't be _her_ Dan if he didn't.

**-c-**

The drink is forgotten.

His hand no longer plays absentmindedly with his signature scarf.

Instead he is stealthily following Serena and her loser boyfriend out into the lobby of the Crowne Hotel and further on into the street. It's not that late and traffic around Times Square makes it easy to stay unseen.

It's fucking freezing outside and his coat is still at the party, but he sticks with his mission. He's too damn curious not to.

Something really weird is going on and he plans to find out what it is. He's tired of getting leftover news from that nosy 'Gossip Girl' whore.

And of course, there was also the look on dear Nate Archibald's face when they crossed paths in the bar, right after Nate had talked to Serena. He could have sworn that Nate looked worried. He figures that it must be because of something that Serena said. Hence the weird stalking.

He rubs his hands together to warm them and almost blows his cover. Because he's apparently been so caught up in his own trail of thoughts that he hasn't even noticed Dan and Serena stopping and now he almost runs right into the back of the Brooklyn-trash. Thankfully they don't seem to notice him either and he looks around. They're right outside one of their old hangouts on 6th Avenue. Just a stone-throw from the Crowne Hotel and the party. Why the hell was Serena stopping here?

From his spot a couple of feet away he can hear the blonde girl snap: "I don't care Dan. Blair is my _best_ friend! I need to go in here, and I really need your help. But if you wanna go back and get Jenny, then do." She makes a frustrated hand gesture. "Just don't bring her back here. Your sister is a blabbermouth and I'd rather keep her out of this."

He can clearly see the Humphrey-boy hang his head. But like the whipped boyfriend he is, Dan follows. And so does he, now even more determined to get to the bottom of this.

_Blair is my best friend! I need to go in here…_

So Blair was here? What was she doing in this place? They hadn't hung out here in over a year…

It's a nice bar, not some dirty local sports pub, it's just not anywhere near the infamous Ms Waldorf's taste. Not classy enough anymore. But then again, what does he really know about Blair? She has surprised him a lot in the past two months.

He walks inside just in time to see Serena disappear into the ladies room in the back.

And he can't do anything but to follow.

**-b-**

Her head is spinning.

Round and round and round and there's a face that… that she _thinks_ she recognizes, but she's not sure… and it spins and she feels nauseous again but nothing is left…

She's just empty.

Numb.

And the face, the one that's framed with the black curls, is talking to her again, but everything is fuzzy around the edges and she can't focus. She closes her eyes but the spinning continues, only now in the dark.

_Blaair… Blaaair…_

"Blair!"

Something hits her across the face and she opens her eyes again. It doesn't really hurt, just kind of stings. The unrecognisable face is not there anymore, instead there are waves and waves of golden blonde hair in front of her.

Serena is back…

**-s-**

"God… Blair, I can't believe I slapped you… But you need to keep your eyes open for me, okay?"

She pushes Vanessa out of the way and tries to steady Blair's body more securely against herself. But her friend is all limp and jell-o-ish and she realizes what a drag it must have been for Blair to always have to take care of her own drunken ass. This is different though. Blair isn't drunk and disorderly, wanting to dance on bars or trying to kiss unknown boys. Blair looks really pale and she's lying on the clinkered bathroom floor of a downtown bar.

Dan kneels down beside her and takes one look at her best friend before he starts to bombard her with questions. But she's too busy with trying to think of a place to take Blair. She can't bring her to the Waldorf-penthouse in this state. If it was just Dorota at home, then maybe, but typically Eleonore has chosen this weekend to stay home. And her own house is a no-no since her mother would just get Eleonore on the phone right away. Nate's place would have been perfect. Parent-free and anonymous. But since Nate refused… obviously not an option.

Dan keeps asking questions and since she doesn't answer him, he turns to Vanessa.

"Has she been like this all along? Why didn't you take her to a hospital?"

"Serena said not to… apparently it's '_complicated'_…"

She hears the sarcasm in Vanessa's voice but she can't spit out a snide comeback because right now she owes the girl for taking care of her Blair.

"Sweetie…" she says and shakes Blair again. "Can you hear me?"

Blair slurs something not really audible but at least her eyes are open. She's kind of cold and clammy though, and the uneasy feeling in her stomach upgrades to worry. Blair hadn't been like this twenty minutes ago. If she had, then she would never have left her.

Twenty minutes ago, Blair had just been unable to walk because of her drunken state, and the brunette had requested Nate.

"Serena" Dan pushes beside her, "I really think she needs to go to a hospital…"

But she just shakes her head.

"She's just really wasted Dan… I've been worse than this so many times… she just needs to sleep it off somewhere."

It's true, right? Before boarding-school, she had been a party animal and she had done lots of stupid nights out with way too much alcohol. This was just one of those nights. Blair would be fine.

Right?

But then Blair's head slips on her shoulder and bobs towards the brunette's chest. And not even the sound of the door being swung open wakes her up again. She herself turns though, and she is both surprised and pissed off when seeing Chuck in the doorway.

"What the fuck are you doing here Chuck?" she hisses and glares at him. "Come to step on Blair while she's defenceless? Expecting her to put out to you again because she's drunk? Dream on, asshole!"

In the corner of her eye she sees Dan frown at her harsh tone, but she's had it with the entire fucking Bass-family. Especially with the bastard two feet away from her, since unconsciously, she blames him for this entire freak-show. If he would have left Blair alone in the first place, her friend wouldn't have been shunned by all of Constance Billiards, and she wouldn't have drunk herself into a stupor.

Chuck however doesn't even answer. He simply squints and turns to look at Dan.

"Get out of my way, Charity-case…" he says coldly but in an almost oddly calm voice. And maybe it is the calm that actually makes Dan stand up and take a step back.

Then Chuck bends down and slides an arm in between herself and Blair, the other one hooking beneath Blair's legs. She objects loudly, yelling "Hey, what the fuck Bass! Put her down!" but he doesn't even flinch. Instead he carefully stand up, Blair cradled in his arms in a strangely gentle fashion, before sending her the typical death-glare.

"You must be fucking stupid, S…" he hisses. "So many wild nights and you can't recognize an alcohol/drug-cocktail when it's practically thrown at you?"

Her face falls.

"But she can't have been drugged, Chuck… We were practically alone in the bar and no one even came close to the table…"

"And at home? What did she have there?"

There's a lump in her throat because even if she's still slightly intoxicated, she knows where Chuck is headed with this.

"She only had a couple of glasses of champagne…"

He just shakes his head as if he thinks she's naïve and she watches him struggle to get a better grip of Blair. She feels like crying, but she quickly gets to her feet. Chuck had after all tried to talk to her lately, and during the time he had lived in the Bass-Van der Woodsen home, he had actually acted almost 'polite'. But she had shrugged him off like an annoying bug. Now she wishes that she'd been nicer, because apart from Blair, Chuck is really the only one that shares her wild past and that knows how she used to act.

"I mean it Chuck..." she pleads. "She hasn't taken anything..."

He looks pissed as he puts Blair down so that she's leaning against him, and he holds her upright with one arm around her body, while pushing the bathroom door open.

He ignores her comment and instead he looks at Dan.

"You feel like helping out?" he drawls sarcastically and before she can react, Dan has put a hand on the door so that Chuck can get Blair through it.

Dan and Vanessa are right behind her and she hurries after Chuck as he helps Blair out of the bar and loads her into his limo. And she wants to tell him that this is not a good idea. Whatever Chuck Bass is thinking, having Blair around Chuck is just _not_ a good idea…

But she doesn't say this.

"Is she going to be alright?" she instead says weakly and Chuck looks back at her, disgusted as if she's a stupid child.

"Do I look like a fucking Doctor to you?"

Dan says "Hey!" but Chuck puts a hand up in the air apologetically. Takes a deep breath and steps into the limousine. But he doesn't close the door.

"Are you getting into the car anytime this _year_?" she hears him huff from the inside. "Bring the garbage-boy. I'm driving you and Blair to his house."

She doesn't understand. The universe is upside down and hell has frozen over, but she doesn't object. She actually just looks at Dan and motions for him and Vanessa to get into the car. Then she silently follows them. Sits down next to her boyfriend, who looks extremely uncomfortable, and watches Chuck Bass cradle Blair's head in his lap in an almost human way.

Chuck lowers the screen to the driver and says "Brooklyn, Michael. And make a stop at the 26th street pharmacy."

She leans back towards Dan's shoulder, and feeling like a lost kid, she whispers:

"Dan… this is okay, right? That we're taking Blair to your house?"

And as the perfect guy she knows he is, Dan just kisses her temple and nods.

Across from her, Blair moves in Chucks arms and he hushes her gently. He looks worried, and if it weren't for the last weeks constant fighting with the guy, she would beg him to tell her why his forehead is in wrinkles. But after she practically shoved him out of their new home, he probably hates her enough to not share his thoughts.

He avoids them all nowadays. Her, Blair, Nate... And... Suddenly she realizes something.

"Shit... Dan, Jenny will be home. She'll tell everyone..."

Chucks head snaps up and he looks at them with coldblooded anger.

"If that little shrew says one single syllable, I'll singlehandedly make sure she regrets it for the rest of her entire life..."

Stiffening in Dan's arms, she waits for her boyfriend to object. It's after all his little sister that Chuck is silently threatening. But strangely, all Dan does is take out his cell phone, and after a short call, he turns towards Chuck and mumbles;

"Jenny won't be a problem. She's sleeping at Hazel's house."

Chuck only nods, and goes back to slowly rubbing Blair's upper arm. And she has to wonder what he's thinking. After his dad had thrown him out the other day, he was back to living in room 1812 at the Palace, and with the way he's holding Blair, she has to wonder why he doesn't just take her back to his own suite.

She guesses that it's a part of his usual masquerade though. Part of the facade that both he and Blair work so damn hard to keep in place.

For the first time she realizes how alike her best friend and this scumbag really are.

**-c-**

This is not his part of town. Sure, he's been to Brooklyn before, bought the occasional stack of weed or dropped off a girl, but he's never known anyone that actually lived here.

And when the car stops outside a brick-building that looks more like a factory than a house, he abandons the idea of just dumping Blair in the street. In a way he even wants to just turn the car around and take the sleeping brunette back to his own place. But he knows he can't.

He can't, and he doesn't want to.

First of all because Blair Waldorf would kill him if he did. Secondly, because he still hates the bitch for ruining his life. And thirdly, he really doesn't trust himself around her.

Still, when Dan reaches out to take Blair out of his lap, he reacts instinctively. He hisses "Don't you fucking touch her!" before he can stop himself, and he sends Serena a death-glare while struggling to get out of the limo.

It's easier than he though and again it surprises him how little she weighs. She's small, but he has at least expected to have his arms become more tired than this.

"Thanks… uhm…whatever your name is…" he mumbles towards the black-haired girl that holds the front door open, and she smiles.

"Vanessa."

He passes this _Vanessa_-girl and carries Blair into the elevator, closes his eyes for a second as he leans against the wall, and he's strangely annoyed by the lavender scent coming from the brown head of hair, currently leaned against his shoulder.

Suddenly he wants to just drop her to the floor.

Something moves deep inside him, and when he feels it he's so close to actually letting go of her that he's lack of self-control is starting to scare himself.

He breathes through his mouth and when the elevator doors open he gladly follows Serena into a loft-like apartment. And when looking around, he laughs dryly.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me…" he says slowly. "You can't be serious…"

If someone would have asked him what an apartment in Brooklyn looked like, this is probably exactly how he would have described it. Some artsy wannabe hippie styled attic, with weird furniture and flowers and art everywhere.

Serena gives him another glare and he just rolls his eyes.

"Oh, don't act like you don't agree S. This is hilarious."

He takes a couple of more steps into the apartment, suddenly feeling the weight from carrying Blair. "Where can I put her?" he mutters and Serena's boytoy shows up at his side.

"In here."

The Humphrey-guy leads him into what he figures is the poor guy's bedroom and points to a queen-sized bed with pathetic football-sheets. He actually hesitates before lowering the girl in his arms down onto the fabric, wondering when the bedding was last washed.

But he finally does, and for the first time he catches a glimpse of Blair's face. And he fucking hates her for being so beautiful, even in this state. Even with her hair ruined, her dress wrinkled and her otherwise perfectly applied lipstick all smeared, she still looks like an upper class angel.

He tries to stand up but realizes that she's still holding on to the fabric of his shirt. Somehow the picture disturbs him and more roughly than he has intended, he shoves her arm away and takes an involuntary step back.

He can feel his heart thumping all the way up in his throat and he takes a deep breath.

"I'm out of here..." he mumbles and keeps retreating until he bumps into Serena. She gives him a look that he can't read, half-thankful and half-annoyed.

"Do I need to do anything?" she asks silently. "Is she going to be okay like this?"

He swallows and finally averts his eyes from Blair, instead turning towards his blonde step-sister.

"There's liquid charcoal in the bag from the pharmacy. Try to wake her up and give her that. If she had any drugs, that'll suck up the residue..."

He says the last part mostly for Savior-boy's sake. Serena knows. Then he walks backwards out from the bedroom.

"Just don't tell her I was here..." he mumbles. "This doesn't change anything."

And on the inside he feels as if his last sentence is more directed to himself than to Serena. He ignores her confused "But Chuck..." and simply repeats himself, a little harsher this time.

"Not a word, Serena. You hear me? This has _nothing_ to do with Blair. There is no reason for her to know. Just tell her that you took a cab, okay?"

Serena nods hesitantly and he hisses out a sharp "That goes for you too, Brooklyn!" to Dan before he leaves them both standing at Blair's bedside. He doesn't look at the brunette again, he just wants to get away. Out of this house, out of this part of town, and back to the safety of his own suite.

He needs a drink and a good night's sleep, maybe even a couple of drinks. And hopefully he'll realize that the flutter in his stomach is just a figment of his imagination. A mere memory of before.

But honestly, he already knows. One of the tiny coffins, containing hidden winged creatures, has sprung a leak.

**..--..**

* * *

Author's note: That was the first chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts since this is my first try at a serious Gossip Girl story.

Much love to all of you.

/Lynn


	2. Practice Makes Perfect

Author's note: Are you guys amazing or what?! What a wonderful reception of my newest story…

If some of you feel confused about the changing p.o.v, then my advice is to keep track of the markers in between the blocks of text. –b- is for Blair, -c- for Chuck, -s- is for… yeah… I guess you understand. Thank you's are at the bottom. Now on with the story…

* * *

**How We Breathe**

**.****¨-¨.**

**Chapter 2 – ****Practice Makes Perfect**

Sunday, January 13th 2008

**-****b-**

She wakes up to a totally unfamiliar environment. And it takes her at least half a minute to figure out where she is. When she does, she quickly looks around for Serena and realizes that her blonde best friend is sleeping right beside her.

Her head is pounding as if someone is remodeling the inside of her skull with a sledgehammer, and she squints against the light from the window.

How the hell did she end up in Brooklyn-boy's bedroom? And _why_?

The last thing she remembers is a foggy mess of bits and pieces from Zanzibar, their old hang out on 6th. She remembers having a couple of Martini's with Serena, and Serena begging her to just come along with her to the Spring term-mixer. She had refused, hadn't she? Said something about not feeling well, and when she thinks about it, it had been true.

The room had been spinning viciously and she had felt this weird pressure over her chest. Kind of like the beginnings of a panic-attack. But she couldn't have had a panic-attack. She's Blair Waldorf for crying out loud…

For a second she wonders if her mother ever had a panic attack, or if Audrey Hepburn did, but then Serena moves in the bed next to her and she closes her eyes again and pretends that she's still asleep. She should have known though. It takes less than five seconds before her blonde childhood friend starts to shake her gently.

"Blair… Hey… Wake up B…"

She groans to show her protest and she misses the peace and calm of her own bedroom. Her sleeping-masque, her satin sheets, Dorota…

Finally she gives up and blinks towards Serena.

"Shhh…" she mumbles. "No loud sounds, please… My head is killing me…"

Serena is watching her closely, like a mother feeling the forehead of her feverish child. Then she sits up and rests on her elbow.

"What the hell happened last night Blair? Do you realize that I couldn't even take you home? I've never seen you so drunk…"

She swallows. That bad, huh? It's weird because after that feeling of someone sitting on her chest, she hardly remembers anything. Just that she had felt nauseous and that she had asked Serena to… No… fuck…

"Please tell me you never found Nate…" she groans and buries her face in the pillow.

But when Serena doesn't instantly answer, she knows. Serena had found Nate, but her being in this bed, in Serena's _boyfriend's_ bed, tell her all she needs to know.

"On second thought; Don't tell me…"

The sadness on Serena's face becomes deeper and her blonde friend reaches out and touches her cheek in a gesture of support. Although in her head it feels more as pity.

"He was really wasted. I doubt it if he even remembers…" Serena mumbles weakly, and her detest for the pity-party grows even deeper. So deep that she waves Serena's hand away with an annoyed motion and turns towards the wall.

But of course it's not that easy to get away. When Serena talks again, she can almost hear her friend's voice cracking.

"B, be honest with me… Did you take anything last night? It just seems so weird to me how you could get that trashed so quickly…"

"I took a couple of Advil…" she says, and she tries her hardest to sound sincere. "I've been so stressed lately, with everything going on, and you know how nervous I was about going to the Mixer… Maybe the Advil just clashed with the champagne?"

She turns her head back and at first Serena looks suspicious, but then her facial expression changes to a more sad one. And she secretly breathes out in relief when she realizes that her friend is buying her story.

"You have to be more careful, B. You had us all really worried…"

"Us _all_?"

She freezes. Wasn't it enough that Cabbage Patch had been dragged into this? Who else? Didn't Serena just say that Nate said no?

"Me and Dan… and… Vanessa. She was there Blair, it wasn't much I could do. You really scared me, you know?"

She nods guiltily and pulls the covers a little tighter around her. She knows that she's scared her friend, but deep down it makes her feel good. This way she at least gets it in black and white that _someone_ cares if she lives or dies. But why the hell hadn't Serena had the common sense to get Vanessa out of the picture? That trailer-trash girl had enough inside information in her life already after that video-tape…

Serena touches her cheek again. Runs a cool hand through her tangled hair, reminding her that she probably looks like shit. And then her beloved S whispers;

"You know you can talk to me, right? What ever it is…"

She almost laughs. How could she ever talk to Serena about the things that corrupt her thoughts? Serena would freak out on all levels. And she would never understand. So instead of answering, she looks down and realizes that she's been sleeping in Dan's sheets. And more exactly in his _Football_ sheets? For a second she imagines Chuck's dry laugh if he saw her now. '_Princess Blair_…' he would drawl. '_So far away from your 1800 thread count Egyptian cotton_…'

But then she quickly closes the thought as if it was a door to a forbidden room, glad that he _doesn't_ see her.

She's not allowed to think about Chuck Bass ever again.

She's not _worthy_…

Monday, January 14th 2008

**-c-**

He sees Blair for the first time during lunch on Monday, and he leans against the school's old brick wall and inhales the smoke from his cigarette. Life is slowly turning back to normal. At least officially.

Nate and Damien are talking beside him, going over their new practice-schedule for Track and Field, and their voices float loosely in the air around him. He's not listening. Instead he stealthily glances at the girls sitting on the stairs a couple of feet away.

Blair and Serena, Kati and Is. Hazel and that little redhead… what was her name? Never mind…

Anyway, it seems to him as if Blair too is starting to be welcomed back into her social circle, probably due to Serena's never ending struggle to get Blair accepted.

She sits quiet, rested against the leg of Serena who is sitting one step higher up, and he's surprised that no one except for himself seems to think that her posture is off. Blair Waldorf never _rests_. She's usually stiff as a board, back straight and chin held high. She must really be slipping.

He filters out Nate's whining and strains his ears to hear the girls talk instead. Takes another drag of the cigarette just as Serena asks:

"You okay, B? You seem a little tired."

Okay, maybe he isn't the _only_ one.

The brunette instantly straightens up and assures the blonde that she's fine, she's just not in the mood for her lunch. And Serena kindly offers her a trade. Switches Blair's lemon yogurt for her own grilled cheese sandwich, and he feels his eyes widen a bit when Blair actually takes it.

The combination of Blair Waldorf and a grilled cheese sandwich is more far fetched than imagining Carter Baizen not smoking pot.

"Chuck? Hey man, are you listening?"

He snaps around at the sound of his name and gives Nate an apologetic nod.

"Sorry, Nathaniel. What were you saying?"

He can't be caught eye-balling Blair when he and Nate are just getting back to normal. Nate is still not talking to Blair and he seems to be serious about not wanting the brunette back. But still, he's not jeopardizing anything.

And a couple of minutes later, when Nate seems to be back to just rambling about sports and he dares to steal another glance in the direction of the girls, he's even more surprised to see Blair eating that same said sandwich with an almost guilty expression on her face. It's actually the exact same expression he had seen in her features when he had first threatened to tell Nate about their little indiscretions.

For what he can see, she doesn't take more than a couple of small bites, but the guilty face lingers for long after she has given the sandwich back to Serena.

Then he sees her excuse herself and get to her feet. She says something about having to go see the headmistress about some charity event and Serena offers to come with her, but then Serena's pathetic boyfriend comes in from left field and the blonde gets caught up in a steamy make-out session instead.

"Nathaniel…" he says and throws the cigarette-butt on the ground. "I'm heading in. See you later."

Nate just nods. They obviously still have a long way to go before _normal_ will return in other ways than just for show.

**-b-**

She walks fast through the corridor of Constance Billiards, makes a left behind the back stairs, and heads for the least used girls bathroom at the far end. Once she's inside, she takes a couple of seconds to scan her appearance in the big mirror over the sinks.

She looks tired but she is still perfectly in order. Headband in place; today cobalt blue to match her Louis Vuitton purse, and her make-up is subtle and pristine. Ever since having been dethroned, she's been reluctant to use the ruby-red lipstick. Not just because it smears so easily on occasions like this when her lack of self-control makes her have to throw up in secret, but also because she wants to avoid everything that draws attention to herself right now.

She's in the spotlight enough as it is after having had her dirty laundry hung out to dry in public by Gossip Girl.

She knows that she'll get her revenge on that little Humphrey skank. Little Jenny doesn't have a clue what she's dealing with. Lacking the proper upbringing and social skills from years of mingling, little J will fall down and hurt herself even at the slightest push. It'll be easy to get back her empire from her and that delusional little weasel Hazel. But for the moment she doesn't want it.

Getting her throne back means stepping up and into the light even more. Having everybody follow every step she takes. And right now it suits her fine to stay a little in the shadow. At least while she plans the demise of the backstabbers around her and gets back in her mother's good graces. And the second thing will need more than losing a couple of extra pounds.

Determined to get rid of every little piece of Serena's fat-drenched sandwich, she walks into one of the bathroom stalls and securely locks the door behind her. For a second she thinks she hears someone entering the bathroom, but after putting her ear to the door without hearing anything else, she easily empties her stomach.

Afterwards she goes back out to the mirror. She puts the headband back in place, arranges the ringlets of boring brown hair so that they fall perfectly around her face, and reapplies her make-up.

Feeling lighter and more confident, her eyes once again fall on the silvery package of lipstick at the bottom of her bag. And she hesitates for a second, but then she picks it up and dumps it in the trash-bin.

Getting back in control means giving up all her weak spots, which of course means giving up everything that reminds her of Chuck.

And Chuck used to love her ruby red lipstick.

**-s-**

It's past five when she returns home from school and she flops down on the bed in her still new home.

It's weird to be living with Bart Bass; she's still so used to having it be only herself, Eric and her mom. At least now when Chuck is back to living in his suite at the Palace, there's some sense of peace.

She kicks her shoes off and flips open her cell phone. Tries to call Blair again, but there's still no answer, and frankly she's a little worried about her friend. Lately she's seemed so withdrawn. Not just tense like usual, but closed off, strangely quiet and far off in thoughts.

Dan calls Blair 'snobby' and sometimes even 'bitchy' but he doesn't know her like she does. Dan hadn't been around when they were younger and Blair was her safe haven. Before their lives got complicated and when their closest circle only included them, Nate and Chuck. Back then, Blair had been happier, and she hadn't been half as controlled as she was now.

Saturday's events had really scared her, and when Chuck left the Humphrey home, she and Dan had stayed up talking. It hadn't been an easy discussion...

"_I know you don't really like her baby..." she said and leaned against the kitchen counter. "Especially after the thing__ with Jenny... But think about it, Blair's life isn't exactly easy..."_

_He snorted sarcastically. "Yeah, you're right Serena. It must be hell on earth to be that rich and popular, having everybody bow at your slightest wave."_

"_Don't Dan... You don't know what it's like..."_

_He__ didn't answer at first. Just turned his back to her and poured the coffee he'd made into two big mugs. But then he probably thought about the fight they had about their different backgrounds, back when they first started going out, because when he turned back and held one of the mugs out to her, his face looked softer._

"_You're right… I'm sorry" he mumbled, without her even having to say that he went too far. "I guess I just _don't_ understand the 'ways of the UES elite'... Look at tonight. Blair was almost unconscious, and yet you think it's more important that no one finds out, than that she gets medical treatment." He shrugged. "What if she's not alright, huh? What if she's got alcohol poisoning?"_

_Even though these thoughts had already travelled through her mind, she still bowed her head in guilt. As usual, he was right, but there were things in this that he didn't know. Like for example the repercussions if people knew that a Waldorf had been wasted in public, the way Elenore would go off on Blair for this faux pas, or the fact that her friend was already pushed to the limit by the gossip about the way Nate had dumped her. It had taken a lot in order to get Blair to not run off to France, and if her state had been aired on Gossip Girl, Blair would have fled the country for sure._

"_It's not alcohol poisoning" she said after a brief moment of consideration. "If it were, she would've had to drink a lot more, believe me. I think it's just the stress of everything lately. I mean, Chuck's delirious. He made it sound as if she took some kind of pre-scripted meds or drugs. Blair wouldn't do that."_

"_Yeah... I mean, why would she drug herself?"_

_Dan looked at her, seemingly even more confused, and all she could give in return was a shrug. The scary part was that a silent voice inside her head kept mumbling; "Then again...why shouldn't she?"_

_She had done the same thing, hadn't she? Back when she managed to get drunk off her ass and sleep with Nate behind her friend's back. Even though she hadn't gotten caught, she had still drowned her guilty conscience in booze and drugs. But the good thing with Blair – the thing that always was constant with her friend – was that Blair stayed in control. Always._

_She took a step back and glanced through the open door to Dan's bedroom. Blair was curled in a tight sleeping ball on the bed but she seemed to rest easy. And she would be fine__. Tomorrow morning they would laugh at this._

_So why then had she been so relieved when Chuck barged in and took over, seemingly knowing exactly what to do? And why had she felt so worried when he left? Could it be because she was secretly worried that he had been right after all?_

_No, Chuck could shove his lies up his pompous ass. He was clearly wrong and she was after all the one that knew Blair best. It had always been that way… _

And if it's up to her, it's going to stay that way. She knows Blair and she knows what her brunette friend needs. Blair needs cheering up. Some therapy big-ass shopping and drinks at Monkey Bar down by 54th and Madison. But again, the brunette is being totally out of character when not even answering her phone.

After lunch today she's hardly even spoken to Blair and she tries to remember if she had said anything about having plans tonight. It's a long-shot though, because who would Blair actually hang out with other than her? Kati, Is and the others still only talked to Blair in order to not get in trouble with her, but when she wasn't around to defend Blair, the girls still avoided her like the plague.

Had this been a month ago, then she would have considered that Blair was with Chuck. But ever since Nate found out, Chuck had avoided her best friend. She's pretty sure that some kind of 'closure' had occurred between him and Blair, some kind of fight or struggle of power, but Blair continued to refuse to spill the beads.

She flops over on her back and looks up into her newly painted ceiling. Where was that spawn of the Devil anyway? Wasn't he supposed to be 'home' for Monday-night family dinner?

She tries to call Blair one more time, but she still gets the same response;

_Hi, you've reached the voice-mail of Blair Waldorf..._

So she gives up and dials Dan's number instead. She'll just see Blair in the morning...

**-b-**

Its five thirty and she's running down 83rd street, just about to round the corner onto 5th Avenue, and she's thoroughly annoyed.

Annoyed, because Chuck Bass won't leave her alone. His car has been following her the last five minutes, ever since she came out of Central Park, and although she hasn't for a second acknowledged that she's aware of it, she would recognize that black limo anywhere. After all, the backseat of that same car has a substantial part of her total social demise.

It's January and it's cold outside but she barely notices it. She's wearing sweatpants and one of her father's old Harvard-sweaters, sunglasses safely covering her face. She's sure she looks like some Upper East Side version of Lindsey Lohan, straight out of rehab, but she doesn't care. If anyone recognized her and sent a picture to Gossip Girl, she could wave this off as ridiculous, and everyone would agree. Blair Waldorf would never be caught dead in sweatpants. _Never_. Everybody knows that.

But obviously Chuck has recognized her and he's dead set on making her angry enough to pull her shades off and reveal herself so that he can taint her reputation even further.

So even when the car window slides down and Chuck sticks his head out, she keeps running forward, seemingly unfazed.

"What the hell are you doing, Waldorf?"

His voice is annoyed and before she can stop herself, she says:

"Isn't that pretty obvious?"

She doesn't even look at him, just keeps running with her head held high. But she's not surprised when he doesn't give up. Chuck Bass has always been a stubborn son of a bitch.

"Seriously…" he hisses. "Just stop and get into the fucking car."

"I thought I told you not to talk to me?"

He sighs loudly and in the corner of her eye she can clearly see his annoyed eye-roll.

"Are you deliberately trying to kill yourself?" he asks in a dry tone and she finally stops. Spins around and looks at him coldly. He can't see her eyes since they're still covered by the big Bvlgari shades, but she knows he recognizes her body language.

"And what the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

He looks the same. The signature scarf tucked inside his Burberry coat and his hair slightly messy. Somehow he reminds her of a pouty grumpy child.

"Running, Blair? You don't eat at all anymore and now you've taken up the lowlife habit of _running_? Couldn't you at least have the class of exercising in a gym?"

There is a disappointed tone in his voice, one meant to be condescending, and she feels the anger build inside her. Who the hell was he to tell her what she should and shouldn't be doing? She was a Waldorf, for Christ's sake. Waldorf's had nothing _but_ class.

"Fuck you!" she hisses back at him and goes back to her task at hand. Returns to her run, and the car goes back to slowly driving along beside her.

"Could be fun… but see, you've already done that, remember? And although I enjoy a good tumble in the sheets as much as the next guy, that is not my priority right now, okay?"

"Then what _is_ your priority Chuck?" she asks and jogs along as if she's not the least bit bothered by him following her. "Please tell me so that we can go back to ignoring each other."

"I will, if you just stop this stupidity and get into the god damn car."

Knowing that he'll never give up she yells out in frustration and stomps her feet. Her mask of indifference is cracked at the edges anyway. Then she furiously rips the car door open and he slides over so that she can get in. She refuses to sit next to him and instead takes a seat facing her current tormentor.

"Talk!" she commands him with the poise of a queen, and he does that typical Bass-squint and watches her in silence. He doesn't do good with being told what to do. Never did.

"Listen…" he finally says. "You might be able to fool Serena and Elenore and that stupid fuckwit of a Doctor you've been seeing. But you're not fooling me. I saw you at school today. I know what you're doing…"

She rolls her eyes.

"What the hell are you talking about? Are you stalking me again? Is that it?"

On the inside she's feeling a little worried, but she'd rather die than show him that. If he was set on putting his nose in her business she would be screwed. No one dug up secrets better than him. But when he doesn't answer her, the worry soon turns into irritation and she blows out air through her nose in a frustrated manor.

"I can't read you're mind Chuck, so could you be a little more specific? Maybe actually use words instead of just looking at me like some kind of retard?"

He frowns. Another one of his typical traits.

"I know you're making yourself sick again Blair. I saw you run to the bathroom after lunch and I heard you puking you guts out. It's fucking disgusting if you ask me…"

Nothing new there, she thinks. Apparently a lot of things about her disgust him. But so far the façade stays intact.

"You followed me into the girls' bathroom?" she asks incredulously. "What the hell were you doing in the halls of Constance Billiards anyway?"

But he just looks back at her with an equally disbelieving expression on his face.

"I've just told you that I pretty much saw you shove those manicured fingers down your throat, and you are more interested in what I was doing in the wrong part of school? God, how _shallow_ can you get?!"

That does it! Suddenly she's fuming with anger, and it feels good. A lot better than the last weeks of emptiness.

"Don't you dare call me shallow, you self-centered piece of shit! You're psychotic, you know that? You stalk me around school for god knows what purpose, and now you're making up lies about me and act like you know me? You're sick Chuck. Sick!"

"So you're saying that I'm lying then? You're saying that you weren't making yourself sick, is that it? I was just imagining things when I heard you gag and vomit this morning like some stupid bulimic loser?"

No, that's not what she's saying. Not exactly anyways, but he's not supposed to know this about her. If she has anything to say about this, he'll never know anything about her ever again. So she smirks. Viciously.

"Yes, _Chuck_. That's exactly what I'm saying. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

She has to get out of there so she reaches for the door handle, but his hand shoots out and grabs her wrist tight. So hard that it hurts.

"Stay put. I'm driving you home."

"Let me go! And let me the fuck out of the car, Bass."

"No."

As always, it's the struggle of titans. She glares at him and he glares back. Her wrist is still enclosed in his hand, tight enough to close off circulation, but as soon as they're out in traffic and the car is driving too fast for her to be able to just open the door and get out, he lets her go. She rubs her arm to get the blood flowing again and he leans back in the seat, watching her with his usual pompous and self-righteous attitude.

"You're an imbecile if you think I'm going to let you jog around here like some little anorectic Mary-Kate Olsen, when I know that there's a big possibility that you'll just drop to the ground at any second."

"Why do you even care?"

"I don't."

They ride in silence for a couple of minutes. She keeps her gaze out through the window but she can still feel him looking at her. She used to love having him stare at her, back during those brief weeks when they hooked up in secret. He could undress her with his eyes and make her feel more _wanted_ than she ever had with Nate.

But now when he watches her, ever since that night in the Palace bar, it makes her feel dirty. Used and thrown to the side like an old tainted rag.

As the car finally pulls to a complete stop outside her building, she snaps her head around and looks at him coldly, and he flinches as if he wasn't prepared for her to actually meet his eyes. For a second he looks at her funny but then the usual evil is back in his gaze.

"I'll be watching you, Waldorf" he says deliberately slowly as she opens the door, and all she can get out before stepping out into the street, is a somewhat strained;

"Fuck off…"

**-c-**

When the limo leaves the sidewalk, he leans back into the seat and sighs. It's tiring to be angry at Waldorf. So tiring…

But right now anger is all he can feel. How the hell could Blair be so fucking stupid?

He's not totally oblivious to the past, and even though Blair and Serena might think that Blair's case of bulimia a couple of years back is a well kept secret, he has known all along. Even Nathaniel knows but the guy had chosen to stay blind.

And after today, when he clearly heard princess Waldorf barfing her insides out, he's kind of faced with a dilemma. He knows that he should tell someone about this, but who?

Elenore Waldorf? Please. The woman practically sees him as a pest. If it weren't for his father's wealth, he would probably not even have been allowed to socialize with Blair in the first place. And he's pretty sure that Dorota wouldn't let him in anyway after what he told Blair that night in the bar. That old lady had a sixth sense for when people hurt her little brown-haired doll.

Serena would be the logic choice, but the blonde wouldn't believe a word coming out of his mouth at the moment. After spending a week in the same household with the girl, he's had enough with fighting with her. If she didn't even believe him when he said that he wasn't the one who sent her the kinky gifts, then the odds of her believing anything about Blair is less than zero.

And Nathaniel? The mere thought of telling Nate makes him laugh out loud, making his chauffeur look at him funny in the rear-view mirror. First of all, Nate wouldn't do shit, since currently he's giving Blair the cold shoulder. And on top of that; if he told Nate that Blair might be sick again, then he would also have to explain how he knew this, effectively giving away that he's been keeping an eye on the brunette. The fragile truce between him and Nathaniel was built on the fact that he stayed away from Blair…

It's getting dark now and as the limo turns left on its way back to the Palace hotel, he gets ready for yet another night where he'll be having room-service dinner and a scotch in front of some lame TV-show.

It's been weeks since he's taken a random girl to his suit. But it has nothing to do with Waldorf.

It has nothing to do with the fact that he held his breath when she stepped out of the car earlier so that her scent wouldn't haunt him all night like it had last Saturday. Nothing to do with that he still looked for her in school at lunch, ready to go sit with her, until he realized that they weren't even friends now. And most of all, it had nothing to do with his inability to think of anything but her when he crawled into bed at night, unless he was really drunk.

The limo stops at a red-light, and he sees Serena and her stupid lover-boy kiss at the street corner. He's still not sure why he hates Blair the way he does. If it's because she woke up the stupid butterflies that he hadn't known even existed, or if it's because she told him to murder them without even as much as a raised eyebrow.

What he does know though, is why he hates Brooklyn-boy so much.

He has a good five seconds to watch Dan and Serena kiss before the light turns to green, and his stomach turns in jealousy. _That_ was what he had wanted; the possibility to be the one that Blair cared most for, just like Serena did with Dan. Just to be standing in a street-corner kissing as if nothing else mattered.

He hates Dan because the stupid loser is _loved_. Not only by Serena, but obviously by his family as well. And after having been moved back into room 1812, he knows that the odds of ever being part of the Bass-Van der Woodsen family is slim.

But who cares, right? Who cares if his dad is an ass, his stepsister hates him and he's just not born to be loved like a stupid guy from Brooklyn?

And who cares if Blair is puking her guts out? It's not his problem.

He steps out of the car outside of the Palace, but after waving Michael off, he doesn't walk towards the elevators. Instead he makes a sharp right and heads for the bar.

Although he's not sure that the usual amount of over-prized whiskey will help tonight.

When it comes to Blair Waldorf, he's not sure it helps at all.

**..--..**

* * *

**Author's note**: This was all for the second chapter. A little build-up as you can see. Since this world of Gossip Girl is still pretty new to me, feel free to PM me if you have questions or if I've made mistakes. Love you all /Lynn

Stefyboh – Stefy hun, am I your best friend now? ;) I'm sorry that your favourite part got moved to chap 3 but I hope this is okay as well. Love you babe, and you know it. As always, a HUGE thank you for helping me the way you do.

Screwwithmyhead – Kat, thank you for test-reading and giving me valuable insights. :D You rock.

Chairforever – thank you. The Blair/Chuck dynamics isn't easy to uphold but I will try my very best. I hope you keep reading.

Fairyfootsteps – LOL, dysfunctional is certainly the right way to describe CB's relationship. Thank you so much for your review, it made me happy.

Krola – the change of point of view will remain like this. :D I feel like it's needed in order to look into everyone's mind. And no, Blair still doesn't know... Thanks for your review.

Ella – I will continue, to the very end of this fic. LOL thank you.

Blood Red Kiss of Death – And NOW it's updated :D Thanks for the review.

Papillonbelle – I love the metaphor in your review. I almost wish I had come up with it ;). Maybe if i'm nice you'll let me use it? Thanks for your support.

Fallen Heart – Still interesting? ;) Thanks for the review.

Missscarlettbelle – You're awestruck and I'm blushing :D Thank you so much.

Katie76842 – Thank you :D

Gleechild – Sharon, that meant a lot, because even though I'm new at writing Gossip Girl stories, I've realized that you're a wellknown CB-writer. I humbly bow :D Thank you.

KateWoods – Chuck is my favourite. I'm working hard on my Blair-skills ;) Thank you for the review.

Maigu – He really doesn't want to, but who's he gonna tell? ;) Thank you.

BringBackSummer – I am continuing it. :D And I plan on finishing it too. Thanks for the support and I hope you keep reading.

LoveItxoxo – I'm so glad you like my characterization of Blair and the eating disorder-storyline. And we seem to share the exact same view of Nate. LOL Chuck is the hero in my thoughts and I hope to keep making his character justice. I really hope you keep reading this story, and super thanks for your review. It totally made me smile.

Actec18 – Here was a little bit more :D I hope you liked it. Thank you so much for your review.

Jeytonbrucasnaley – Cheyenne... I should triple thank you, baby. Thank you for listening to my repetitive rambling about CB even before I posted the first chapter of this. Thank you for your important insight on the missing scene, and thank you for the continuous support you always give me. You're a gem, babe. REALLY.

D R O W N-I N-S E Q U I N S – thank you so much! Amazing huh? Aww I'm blushing...

amomentintime3 – I loved your review and I'm glad that you liked the dynamic in the first chapter. I'm aware that it might have not been as strong in this chapter, but I'm working on it ;).

.x.imagine.x. – Is this soon enough? :D Thank you for your review.

LoVeElle – It is my first Gossip Girl fic (unless you count my smutty one-shot) LOL, but I do have several BL stories in the One Tree Hill section. I'm glad that you think Chuck was in character. I love the way he's assy on the show, but still sweet in a weird way. Thank you for reviewing.

dazzledlight – Wow that review you gave me was awesome. And you wrote a fic where Blair has an eating disorder? I really have to check that out. I can't tell you what will happen but I can promise you that Blair won't die. Thanks for your review and I hope you keep reading.

Pokey – thank you for that. I feel proud when you say that my chuck-characterization is good. :D

ms metaphor – I'm so glad that you like my chuck. It's not so easy to show how he feels towards Blair, but I think you're totally on spot with hate/love. Thank you for your review, it made me happy.

Literati and naley forever – Aww you totally make me blush with that awesome review. It's still a bit new to me with these characters since I'm used to OTH's Brooke and Lucas, but I'm doing my best and I hope to keep you as a reader. :D Thank you so much.

liddle.girl.lucy – Lucy, it's funny that you think the chapter was long since according to my other stories; this was a short chapter LOL. I'm so glad you liked it though, and I hope that you will keep on liking it. Thank you.

Brookebynature – Gracie baby! You keep updating at a speed where I don't even have time to review. And you have no idea how glad I am that you approve of this fic. (Í was a little worried lol). I hope I can keep you interested even though this chapter weren't as drama-filled. And you should totally log on to msn more often. I miss talking to you.

Savannah – I'm keeping it going. To the end LOL. Thanks for your review.

Ollywood3 – No, it's not a one-shot :D And if I know myself correctly, probably even a longer story than the 10 chapters I've planned for it to be. I loved your review and I really hope you'll stick around for the rest of the ride.

doodles – Aww thank you so much. I hope I didn't make you disappointed with this then. Thanks for your review.

Ramses-Lives – Thank you. ;) I'm so glad you like it.

Sixte3n Candl3s – I'm so glad you think so. Now, let's hope I can keep the brilliance up. :D Thanks for the review.


	3. Inside Out

Author's note: Have you been waiting? LOL Well, here it is. The third chapter. And to clarify something; This story hasn't caught up to the tv-series time-wise. We're still before the wedding between Lily and Bart. Now, lets go:

* * *

**How We Breathe**

**.¨-¨.**

**Chapter 3 – Inside Out**

Friday, January 19th 2008

**-b-**

"Blair"

Her mother's icy voice echoes through the apartment and she groans where she's standing in front of her mirror. It's 7.45 am and she's putting the finishing touch on her make-up, trying to get ready before Elenore arrives back from Rome, but apparently no such luck.

Sighing, she notices Dorota in her doorway, and the old housekeeper is wearing a face of sympathy.

"Good morning miss Blair. Your mother wants you to come for breakfast downstairs."

She stiffens immediately and bites her bottom lip as Dorota pulls the curtains apart to let in the dull morning light. And while the woman that practically raised her starts making the bed, she slowly finishes putting on her mascara.

"Miss Blair should hurry. The Mrs. is already waiting in the sunroom..."

"I am on my way Dorota!"

She doesn't mean to snap. It's just that being watched and scutinized by Elenore is the last thing she needs. When Dorota served her breakfast here in her room, she could easily just pick some grapes and chew them slowly until left alone. Some days, if she didn't want to eat, she could just wrap half the food on her plate in the napkin and shove it down in her schoolbag to be discarded in a trash-bin on her way to meet Serena.

Lately, she guesses, Dorota must wonder where all the napkins went.

But breakfast with Elenore was always a lose-lose situation. If she didn't eat, then her mother would look at her suspiciously and make an appointment with Dr Sherman before she had time to blink.

The thought of people finding out about her 'earlier problem' seems to be what scares Elenore Waldorf the most, since that could look as if she had raised a less than perfect offspring.

But if she did in fact eat normally, then she would have to endure the usual disappointed and condescending glare. The one that told her that however perfect she tried to be, she would never be enough. Never be worthy of her mother's appreciation.

Maybe that is why she has barely had a meal with Elenore since that morning before the photo-shoot when Serena came over...

"_Darling" her mother snapped when she stepped into the dining room and made the mistake of saying 'Good morning'. "__Don't you know that it is impolite to interrupt? I was just telling Serena that Bendel's is interested in carrying my line."_

_Surprised to see Serena smiling at her from across the table, she looked at her mother again._

_"Really, mom? Oh, that's fantastic! Why didn't you say something?"_

_In the corner of her eye she saw Serena put the last piece of a croissant into her mouth and lick her fingers, while nodding in agreement. But her mother looked annoyed, as if she was bored with having to explain it all over again._

_"I came back from Paris early to put together my look-book, and if they like what they see, it could be the beginning of an entire lifestyle collection."_

_"Because more people should be like you, mother."_

_She couldn't help but sound a bit sarcastic, although her mother just rolled her eyes. But of course she got attention the minute she reached for a croissant like the one Serena just ate. Her mother's eyes instantly turned skeptical and disapproving._

_"Before you tuck into that, dear… maybe you'll find a low-fat yogurt more appealing?"_

_The look and the raised eyebrow told her that it was more of a command then a question. Elenore might as well have said; 'Please don't embarrass yourself by stuffing your face like a pig.'_

_"I lost 2 pounds when you were away…" she tried and pulled at her robe, wishing that she had dressed before coming down to eat. But her mother didn't even look at her when she answered "And you look marvelous."_

_Instead Elenore was watching Serena, and she cringed inwardly when Serena tossed her gorgeous long blonde hair back and flipped through the clothes on the rack._

_"Wow, these are beautiful, Mrs. Waldorf."_

_"Well, they will be when they're not all squished from traveling." _

_Elenore stood up and without hesita__tion just started toward Serena while muttering "Darling, please…" _

_S__he flinched and moved back to allow her mother to pass without having her bare feet stepped on. So much for the 'family breakfast'… _

_Rolling her eyes, she pinched off a grape and dutifully chewed it twenty times._

"_Sereena…" her mother gushed with her voice all buttery, "You have to come back later when everything is unpacked. I would _love_ to hear your thoughts. You do have such great personal style."_

_And it wasn't a lie. Serena had a way to look wonderfully and spontaneously beautiful even when she came straight out of bed. And she felt the bitter jealousness taint her insides. No matter how hard she strived to be perfect in her mother's eyes, Serena was always better. Always had been._

_But Serena had after all been her best friend her entire life, and even the year away or the fact that Serena had slept with her boyfriend, didn't seem to have dented the telepathic bond between them. Because Serena smiled as politely as ever but shook her head. _

"_Oh, thank you Elenore, but I don't think we'll be able to. Blair and I have plans today."_

_"We do?"_

_For a second she looked at her blonde friend in confusion. They did? She hadn't even known that Serena was coming over. But then Serena winked._

_How ever bad Serena had stabbed her in the back, s__he could always count on S when she needed to be saved._

Now when she sits down across from her mother and unfolds the starched linen napkin in her lap, Serena won't come in and save her. And she soon realizes that this is just another one of her mother's 'briefings'. This family-breakfast is merely a way for Elenore to make sure that she is aware of what's expected of her.

"Why do you look so tired darling?" her mother asks after only glancing at her, and she straightens her back a little more.

"I couldn't sleep last night... How was Rome?"

The try for a change of subject seems to fly past unnoticed.

"You should really go to sleep earlier Blair. You don't want to get dark circles under your eyes, and lack of sleep will give you wrinkles sooner than needed. I should know. With my workload, sleep is _always_ a luxury. You, my dear, are spoiled that way... You and your friends get everything served to you."

She nods solemnly and feels herself shrink in her seat.

Never good enough, no matter how hard she tries. So why bother?

Elenore's cell-phone beeps angrily on the table beside them and while her mother answers it and keeps drawling on to someone about the importance of keeping deadlines, she reaches for a chocolate Danish and eats it without even breathing. Before she even realizes it, she bites into a second one.

Her mother seems totally oblivious, caught up in her important business-call, and when she gets up to head for school, Elenore simply covers the receiver and theatre-whispers: "The House-warming party at Lily's and Bart's starts at 7 pm. Don't be late."

She nods, just wanting to get out of there, and when she reaches the doorway, her mother adds:

"And Blair, try to wear something a little more flattering..."

She closes her eyes and she can still feel the taste of chocolate in her mouth. Suddenly she wishes that she had eaten the whole plate. But she nods like a good girl and walks towards the elevator.

And is if the day isn't bad enough already, she spots a certain black limo creeping down the street the second she walks out onto the sidewalk.

"Not _today_, Bass..." she groans to herself and starts walking. She's nauseous enough as it is.

**-c-**

School is as boring as ever, and as he sits in class and listens to the geography professor yap on and on about the climate in South Africa, he simultaneously checks his cell phone. Gossip Girl still hasn't caught on to the fact that Georgina is returning, and there haven't been any new rumours about Blair. Actually it's been unusually silent about the brunette, but then again, same said brunette has been acting uncharacteristically silent and calm.

One that has been appearing on the gossip hotline though, is dear Nathaniel. First with going out with Brooklyn-trash's little skanky sister, and now because he went on a date with the girl from that night when Blair was drunk beyond words. _Vanessa_.

_Good morning Upper East siders. It seems that UES's own prince charming has left the security of his kingdom for __a night in Brooklyn with a rather unknown dark-haired beauty. And I guess that means that there is now no hope for a reunion between him and the former queen..._

Even more bored, he closes his phone without even finish reading the text. Sure, Loser-boy's friend is kind of hot in an exotic kind of way, but she's not his type. Low class women were for low class activities. He would never bring a girl from across the bridge to any of their hangouts unless it was for a good reason, and he finds it a little pathetic that Nathaniel brought the girl to a fancy restaurant. It just seemed to much of a reversed 'Lady and the Tramp' cliché. But then again, Serena went slumming, and apart from the brewing Georgina-mess, the blonde seems happier than ever.

He puts his phone back in his pocket and discretely looks at his former best friend. Nate is concentrated on taking notes and completely unaware that Gossip Girl has released a piece of his night with Vanessa.

He can't help but wonder if Blair has seen it yet, and if she has; what she feels about it. She hadn't looked that happy this morning when he drove by and saw her coming out of her house... But that couldn't have been because of Nate and his corny date, right?

Because at lunch he had seen Blair with the girls on the steps, and she had seemed normal then. At least she had seemed like what counted as normal nowadays.

"So was Veronica worth the three courses at Café Boulud?" he hisses over to Nathaniel when the professor looks the other way, purposely saying the wrong name to show that he doesn't care if Nate even answers. And for kicks, he adds; "I mean, sure... Brooklyn girls are usually good fun."

Nate looks a little annoyed and mutters "_Vanessa_. And it's not like that, man."

"No? Then what?" He raises an eyebrow. "You're dating her because of her perfect social background and flawless upbringing? I hate to break it to you old pal, but _Vanessa_ won't be able to help your dad with his financial mess..."

The crease in Nathaniel's brow deepens and he looks guilty behind the irritated facade. The hidden meaning is clear to them both and no other explanations are needed.

"That was a mistake, you know that Chuck..." Nate finally mumbles and he smirks back. "It was wrong of me to try and take advantage of Blair's family name, but you know how my dad pushes..."

Touché. So now Prince Charming at least admits it...

"People make mistakes..." he agrees silently as the professor turns back, and when he sees the smile on Nate's face, he realizes that Nate thinks that he meant that sleeping with Blair was a mistake too.

But when he leans in over his book to look like he's studying, he inwardly knows that this isn't the case. He doesn't regret sleeping with Blair, not even about taking her virginity, or that he did it behind his friend's back. He regrets letting Blair become more than a casual fuck.

And he regrets losing her as a friend.

If there was ever a mistake he wishes that he hadn't made, then that was on top of the list.

His phone buzzes again, signalling another incoming message, and he once again retrieves his phone. The text is from his father, and after reading it, his mood goes from bored to straight up horrible, and nothing can change it. Not even the fact that when the class ends, Nathaniel starts talking to him about his date with the Brooklyn-girl as if they're back to their normal brother-like friendship.

There's just too much on his mind for him to brighten his mood, since tonight his dad has requested that he'll participate in the stupid house-warming festivities and the text-message warning about his behaviour at that party is just the last drop. But what daddy says, Chuck does... that has always been the unspoken rule in the Bass household.

When Bass senior says jump... well, Blair would understand. Her life is just the same, but with different consequences.

Too bad he hates her.

And right then he walks out of the school's front door and a shoulder brushes his. His nostrils fills with a very familiar sent and his stomach makes a summersault.

Stopping in the middle of the stairs, he watches Blair's back as she disappears out through the gates, and he takes a calming breath.

Stupid fucking butterflies.

**-s-**

The Bass-Van der Woodsen 'moving in-party' is an expensive ordeal that she wishes she could just bail from. The flat is crowded with rich and boring friends of her mother and Bart, and of course by their spoiled off-springs.

Dan is visiting his mother in Hudson so she's even more bored than usual, and since she doesn't drink that much anymore, the entertainment of being drunk is a no-no. She had put all her hope on Blair to keep her company, but the brunette just keeps disappearing.

Then from out of nowhere Chuck appears at her side and she huffs in annoyance and takes a step back as he leans in and says "Hi sis..."

"Get out of my face, Chuck!"

She's thoroughly tired of bumping into him everywhere she goes. He's like vermin, destroying everything in his path, and even after effectively running him out of their home ten days ago, she wants to stay as far away from him as she can. Somehow even more so since last weekend.

Before last Saturday she had at least felt confident that she knew him.

Chuck Bass – pompous asshole and disgusting playboy with no respect for anyone other than himself.

But then he arrived at Zanzibar and totally took charge of the 'Blair-incident', acting so out of character that she almost had to re-evaluate his person. At least until he once again changed back and made her promise not to tell anyone that he had even been there.

Now she's feeling confused, because every time he smirks at her in the disgusting way he's doing right now, she still remembers the way he cradled Blair in the limo...

Why the hell couldn't he have just stayed away from her friend in the first place?

Or even better, why couldn't she herself have stayed away from Nate?

Chuck just leans back against the wall and looks at the passing people. Nods or offers a bored 'Hello' here and there when he has to.

"Maybe you should keep better watch over Waldorf?" he then says in a dry voice and swirls the whiskey in his crystal tumbler. "She seems to be straying from the narrow path again..."

She gives him a cold look and disgustedly removes his hand from her shoulder.

"No need. Blair will be perfectly fine just as long as you keep your _dirty_ hands off her."

"Does she look fine to you?"

He nods towards Blair who's standing further inside the living room. Her friend looks stiff as a board, frozen in a stoic pose next to Elenore, and her eyes are hollow and blank.

And no, Blair doesn't look _fine_. In fact, she looks completely detached. And it annoys the living crap out of her that Chuck needs to tell her this.

He probably sees the change in her face because he smirks.

"Why do you even care whether she's fine or not?" she snaps a lot harsher than needed. "I bet you thrive on this, asshole!"

If she thought he'd react, then she has to admit that she deluded herself. He doesn't even frown. Instead he keeps the condescending smirk in place and takes a sip of his drink. Apparently, since he's not living with them here anymore, he has given up on trying to impress Bass Senior.

He looks over at Blair again, just when the brunette politely declines the paté de Foie Gras that's being offered to her and instead goes for another glass of Champagne.

"As I said S..." he drawls. "Maybe you should spend a little more time doing your 'best friend duties', and a little less time playing wifey to Brooklyn-boy. Where is the loser by the way? Off somewhere with his lady friend _Vanessa_?"

The eyebrow he raises is there for emphasis but it isn't needed. His point comes across perfectly without it anyway. She has spent almost all of her time lately with Dan and that hasn't left much time to check up on Blair, even though she had promised her best friend that they would conquer all the shit together when she stopped her from escaping to France.

Chuck however, seems to be in an even more cruel mood than usual, because the unasked for comments just keeps hurling out of him.

"Its funny how Dan and Nathaniel seem to share a taste in girls, don't you think? Maybe your Brooklyn-lover will fight Nate for Vanessa as well?"

He swirls the glass of whiskey again and smirks. "At least you won't have to worry about Dan humping Blair if that theory is right" he finishes, and the dry laughter sounds almost cynical.

She wants to ask him why he added that last thing, but he leaves her standing and saunters off back to Nate and some of the other boys. And when she turns back around to go over to Blair, Elenore is deep in conversation with Bart. Her brunette friend has once again gone MIA.

Across the room Chuck gives her a look as if to say 'See?' and she huffs in annoyance. The devil-spawn is up to something, she can see it in his eyes.

She just can't figure out what that 'something' is.

**-b-**

She should have worn the black dress instead. It's more slimming and not as 'unique'. And maybe if she had kept her hair down, then her mother wouldn't have slipped that comment about her neck.

She leans against the wall in the upstairs hallway and searches her purse for the emergency stash of Lexipro. Finding them, she pops two pills out of their casing and dry-swallows them. Instantly she feels relieved and she knows that it's totally psychological. The effect wouldn't even be that fast if she had shot the anti-depressants into her bloodstream intravenously. It's probably just the notion that she's doing something that calms her. The notion that she's in control.

She lets her shoulders sink an inch and breathes out slowly, but then she jumps half a feet into the air when a voice breaks the silence in the dimmed corridor.

"What're those pills you're popping?"

The sneaking up is so Chuck-typical that she almost doesn't reflect over the fact that the voice isn't Chuck's. She spins around, ready to spit harsh comments in his face, but instead she's met by Eric's curious expression.

"Eum... it's just vitamins..."

She tucks the purse under her arm and gets ready to sprint out of there, but Serena's innocent little brother shakes his head.

"No it's not. It's clearly anti-anxiety-candy. They fed me loads of it at the clinic."

She frowns but he just keeps smiling. "You shouldn't mix those with alcohol, you know" he says. "You'll get nauseous."

In some way, that comment is so ridiculously ironic that she laughs. She's in this hallway, taking these pills, because every time tonight when she has tried slipping into one of the five bathrooms, the hateful Bass-vermin has been standing right outside the door, hence making it impossible for her to get to her comfort-place. He hasn't as much as glanced at her, only sipped his stupid whiskey and kept charming Lily's friends with his disgusting smirk. And now Eric tells her that the nausea will get worse? Not likely. It's not possible.

She keeps laughing, but the sound is hollow and fake and it doesn't fit into the setting of the dark hallway.

"Don't be silly, little E" she remarks in a condescending voice to mask up that he's hit straight home. "Not everyone are nervous wrecks like you, in need of pharmaceuticals. Why don't you run of and play somewhere else?"

His smile falls and when he mumbles "Why are you always such a bitch nowadays, Blair?" then she almost feels guilty. Her predicament is hardly Eric's fault.

"Grow up" she mutters and shoves past him. "What are you doing up here anyway?"

He looks at her in a way that almost makes her squirm. Brown eyes that seem to know she's lying.

"Serena said to find you. Apparently Chuck accidentally pushed a waitress into the Asian buffé... Bart is furious. She wants you to help her with damage-control."

She sighs. What was Chuck's fucking problem anyway? Couldn't he ever keep out of trouble?

Then she realizes what Bart being furious meant, and she hurries down the hall without waiting for Eric. Although when she finally finds Serena, Chuck is nowhere to be seen. Lily is hysterical though, and her own mom is just making things worse by talking about the divorce-rate on the Upper East Side.

Thank god she took those pills.

Sunday, January 20th 2008

**-c-**

He doesn't leave the house on Saturday. It just seems stupid to risk it since he knows that Gossip Girl is extra active these days and he's sure that popping his head out, if only for a second, would earn him his own blog-post. Instead he stays inside his suite, watching Entourage-reruns and drinking whiskey. Both activities in an effort to drown all the questions of late surrounding a certain brunette, and to avoid having to think about the fall-out with his dad.

But Sunday comes with clear skies and a feeling that if he doesn't check what's really going on, he will drive himself mad with the endless mind-boggles about Blair and her strange behaviour. So at 3pm he takes a ride in the limo and sees to it that Michael drives by just as the charity event at Bendel's starts.

There are lots of people outside and he sits in the limo until he sees Blair, Serena and Kati arrive and disappear in through the door. For a second he contemplates getting out and joining them at the event, but he decides against it. Walking in here without Nathaniel, or a girl on his arm, would just draw too much attention to him. Instead he calls the number to his father's and Lily's apartment and when the maid answers, he simply asks if Serena is planning on bringing a friend to the Sunday family dinner.

The girl answers that "Yes, Miss Waldorf is coming with her" and he hangs up, feeling content. If she joins the Van der Bass-clan, then he can lean back into the couch without having to think about what Blair is doing. Even if she wasn't coming he wouldn't have gone himself. But he would have seriously contemplated on going to her house to check up on her. She would have yelled at him for sure and called him a stalker, but since she won't be alone, he can guiltlessly stay in his suite and nourish certain 'problems'.

He touches his cheek and winces, before sliding the screen to the driver down. His face still hurts like hell.

"You can drive home again, Michael. I'm done here."

He's done because Blair is where she should be. Serena and the charity event has her covered for now.

And for now he patiently bides his time.

Monday, January 21st 2008

**-s-**

She's walking with Dan in Central Park, hand intertwined with his and thick scarf wrapped around her neck. It's cold and she can see her breath turn to a smoke-like cloud when she laughs at his funny remarks about the passing people.

They've escaped the 'Van der Bass'-house in order to go grab some hot chocolate, and somewhere along the way they ended up lazily walking the park.

"Isn't that Blair?" Dan says and points towards a figure in the distance, and she laughs again and squeezes his arm.

"What? The girl that's _jogging_?"

She laughs again but Dan nods.

"Yeah. Isn't it?"

She takes another look and realizes that the girl actually does look like Blair, even a lot. But it's not her. This girl is wearing an oversized sweat-suit and a knitted hat pulled down over her ears. She runs fast and she is surprised that Dan had time to even notice the resemblance.

"Blair doesn't run" she answers and takes a sip of her chocolate. Dan however looks uncertain.

"Are you sure? I mean, I've seen Blair run before. She was down here the other night as well when I went to Butter to pick up Jenny."

"Did you talk to her?"

Dan shrugs. "No, I tried but I guess she was listening to music or something, because she didn't answer."

"And you're sure that it was her?"

"Yes. Positive."

He looks at her as if he thinks that she's behaving strangely, and maybe she is. But the thought of Blair Waldorf pulling on a pair of sweats and going for a run in the kind of dark and scary Central Park is too farfetched to even consider. Yet she watches the jogging girl disappear in the distance and she's actually not so sure anymore. The sweater that the girl had worn seemed strangely familiar.

"Well that wasn't Blair" she says, sounding more confident then she is. "Blair and Elenore are having dinner with the Baizen's tonight."

Dan shrugs again and they walk in silence for a while. Then he rests his arm around her shoulders. Kisses her temple.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" he mumbles softly. "You've been acting a little nervous around Blair lately, and she hasn't been the same since Christmas break... If it didn't sound so weird, I'd say that she's trying to become invisible."

So she's not the only one that sees it? Blair is so distant and silent that she almost forgets that the brunette is next to her at times. And she agrees that it sounds weird, but it's almost as if Blair is dethroning herself. By now, Blair should be busy getting revenge on people. She should be plotting the demise of Jenny, and possibly Chuck as well...

The worst thing is that this new side of Blair comes with such bad timing. She needs her best friend's bitchiness and evil plans if Georgina plans on coming back like she is threatening to.

She sips her chocolate again and sighs. Tells Dan that nothing is out of the ordinary and that she's just tired. But when he looks at her as if he doesn't believe her, she silently admits that she's a bit worried about Blair's recent lack of fighting spirit.

He nods but smiles.

"Maybe she's changing her ways?" he says. "Trying to turn the other cheek and not act as bitchy?"

"Sure..."

Maybe Dan's right, she thinks. But then again, maybe hell has just frozen over too.

Wednesday, January 23rd 2008

**-c-**

He keeps a much closer eye on her now, and he knows that it must annoy the living hell out of her. She can't do anything at school, because after his little têt a tet with Serena last Friday, the blonde pretty much follows her around.

Still, seeing her at lunch does nothing to improve his already bad mood. He comes back from smoking a joint with Nathaniel behind the school and she is on the stairs with the other girls, although she's not eating. She's nursing a Starbucks paper-cup and he guesses that it contains black coffee. It's stupid and he's not even sure why he cares so much, but the sight annoys the crap out of him. So many times in the past he remembers teasing her about that silly lemon yogurt, and now he actually misses it...

"Saving the food for the starving children in Africa, Waldorf?" he drawls with a bored facial expression when he passes her. "I've always known that charity was important to you..."

She sends him a death-glare back. He hopes for the typical sharp and witty comeback but she says nothing.

And when he hears Kati say "You look amazing Blair. Have you lost weight?" and sees Blair smile contently, then he wants to strangle the bimbo.

Blair isn't stupid. She's been a lot of things but never that. She finds her way around everything, and now that he's seen to it that she can't make herself sick, then she finds new ways to keep her little disorder running smoothly. She eats practically nothing, probably lives on water and black coffee alone, and he figures that she takes every chance to exercise.

It sickens him to know that he can't make her stop, especially after this morning when he realized that he could visibly see the change in her figure. The notion provokes irritation, not just because her behaviour is ridiculous, but also because her actions force him to worry about her. He doesn't _want_ to, but it's fucking impossible to stop.

So when she passes him in the schoolyard after school's out a couple of hours later, he simply grabs her wrist and pulls her towards his car.

"Hey! Bass, what are you doing?"

"Just shut up and get in."

"Aow! Why do you have to be so damn bossy?"

He doesn't answer her. Instead he opens the car door and motions for her to get in, and she does, probably because there are still people inside the school and she doesn't want to attract any attention. Well inside he just looks at her the way he never lets himself do around others. Scans her slowly.

"Why are you still losing weight Blair?"

She just huffs. Rolls her eyes and looks out the window. There is no angry comeback and her hands fiddle nervously with the hem of her skirt.

"I'm not losing weight Chuck" she finally says, but the answer comes a little too late and is a little too weak. Then she reassures "I'm fine, I told you."

He gets ready to spit out the usual 'cut the crap' or 'save me the bullshit' but he can't stop looking at her hands. The way she keeps picking away imaginary lint as if her life depended on it. And instead he finds himself saying;

"Prove it. Have dinner with me and keep it down."

She laughs, but then she probably realises that he's being serious and frowns looking confused.

"Dinner? I wouldn't think you'd want to be seen with me?"

"Who said anything about being seen? Roomservice in my suite will do fine. That way you won't be far from the bathroom when you hurl it all back up."

Maybe he's a little too harsh, but the best way to get Blair to do anything you want her to do is by making her angry, he learned this a long ago. And it never fails.

"Let's go right away" she hisses. "I want this over quickly. I don't want to spend a second extra in your presence."

Somehow it saddens him that this is what their friendship has come down to. Hissing harsh words in secret or yelling in the back of a limo. Why couldn't it have stayed as it was when they spent afternoons making out in her bedroom, or even like before that night at Victrola, when they were actually friends.

Even after all she has done, he still misses their conversations. Her intelligence and wit. Her quick comebacks and manipulative mind, so much like his own. Now none of that is left. Now they're both sucked down into a downwards spiral and he wants to let go of her. Drop her like a hot potato and run in the other direction, but he can't, because in honesty he's afraid of what will happen to Blair if he does.

She's not his responsibility. Truthfully, Nate is probably the one that should be doing this. But his best friend seems set on not showing any concern towards his ex-girlfriend. And Serena is just way too nice.

So that only leaves him.

She doesn't even look at him when they step out of the car, ride the elevator up to the 23rd floor and step into his suite. But he looks at her. She's flawless in her fashion sense, just as usual, but her skirt seems a little to loose and her face looks tired and somewhat sunken in.

"Do you want anything?" he asks as she slumps down in one of his armoire chairs. "A drink?"

"Just call for the food. I want to leave as soon as possible."

And maybe that's for the best.

Sighing, he picks up the phone and calls down to the kitchen. This had all been a spur of the moment thing an he hasn't thought the details trough. What type of food would be best for this? Something light?

A part of him wants to order pizza with extra melted cheese or Italian delizie or pasta Alfredo, just to see her crumble and lose, but when the person answers he hears himself say;

"Bring me two plain omelettes, some fries and toast and some orange juice." And before he hangs up, he adds "And fruit. Make sure you bring some fruit."

Blair watches him silently from her spot in the chair and he wonders for a short second if she ever understood how dead set he had been on changing for her.

Now, it doesn't really matter anymore.

**-b-**

He lifts the silver hood to uncover the food and she places the white linen napkin on her lap and smirks at him. Just because she's in the company of a guy completely without manors doesn't mean she has to act like a savage.

The omelette smells delicious and the fries are golden brown and perfect. She's not surprised, the Palace Hotel is known for its supreme kitchen.

"If I eat this, you'll be satisfied?" she asks and points towards the food on the plate. It's probably a week's worth of calories but if it'll get him off her back, she might be able to do it. She searches her mental calendar and figures that since there is no event that she has be present at this evening she can always double her work out.

"If you eat that _and_ keep it down, then I will cut you some slack, yes."

He sounds so superior, as if he already knows that she'll fail. But she won't. Has he totally forgotten who he's dealing with here?

"_Please, you forget who you're talking to."_

_  
__**"**__So do you."_

"I eat this and prove to you that I'm not bulimic, and you'll stop following me around. We go back to ignoring each other, okay?"

She says it coldly and for a second he _almost_ looks a little hurt. But just almost.

"Sure."

He leans back in his chair, waiting for her to dig in, and she fake-smiles at him to show that the deal is sealed. Just like in the limo, she thinks she can spot a purplish bruise on his cheek, but if it is, then it has to be covered with foundation.

She smirks. The asshole probably just slapped the wrong girls butt again, and asking him about it will only make it look like she cares. Unless…

No.

Instead she picks up the fork and cuts a piece of the omelette. The perfectly cooked eggs on the silver fork wobble a little and she quickly puts it in her mouth before she can think too much.

The second it hits her tongue she knows that this will be a lot harder than she thought. It tastes even better than it smells and as it slowly melts in her mouth she takes another bite. Methodically she eats through half of the yellow omelette before finally spearing a fry on the fork. Chuck is still watching her but when she raises the cutlery he finally starts eating.

It's as quiet as in a grave, the only sound heard is the clinking of silver on thin china. She counts silently inside her head to not just shove the food into her mouth and instead eat slowly in a normal well-mannered way. It's hard, this is the first warm cooked meal she eats in days, and it's only minutes before she starts feeling that guilty nauseous feeling.

The voice starts surfacing in her head, silently at first, but as the fork makes its way between plate and mouth a couple of more times, it grows louder.

_Not worthy_

_You used to be beautiful…_

_Disgusting_

Suddenly the fries seem impossible to swallow but she forces them down with a small sip of the juice. Her plate is still half full and for every second the food on it seems more and more fattening and repulsive.

She takes a silent breath and bites the inside of her cheek. Last time wasn't like this. Last time she could eat like a normal person for most of the time, and then there would be the occasional binging followed by guilty tears and throwing up. Sometimes just a couple of days in between, but still occasional.

Now she starts to realize that _occasional_ is taken out of the equation and replaced with _constant_. Constant need of control and restraint. Constant guilt.

"Stop looking at me" she says silently and slowly spears another french-fry. Chuck is watching her intently again and it's just making things harder.

'It's your fucking fault', she wants to yell at him. 'You're the bastard that made me feel unworthy in the first place!' But she knows that it isn't true. Her mother had been the first. And then Nate. Chuck had merely been the one that pushed her over the edge.

His intense eyes keep being directed at her and she turns away when the silence is broken by the sound of her stomach growling. It's been empty for days and now it's painfully turning, probably shocked at the amount of food she's handing it.

_Breathe Blair… breathe…_

"What's the matter, Waldorf? Not feeling well?"

It's probably meant to sound condescending and mean, but the pity shines through and that feels even worse. He's winning, so he should be ecstatic, right? But suddenly he sounds like he wants to have been wrong. She closes her eyes briefly and takes that extra breath. There's still a chance that she could do this and walk out with her head held high.

"I'm fine _Bass_! I'm just full. Okay?"

He looks down at her half-eaten plate and then back up at her. She hates that his eyes have suddenly gone all soft, and when he mumbles "Okay, you don't have to eat it all…" she wants to kick back the chair and run out of the room.

She wants to command him to not be human all of a sudden. Wants to beg him to keep being an ass and a condescending bastard, because its so much easier to take all this if he's not showing these weird caring sides of himself. The sides of him that used to be saved just for her but that he took away in less than a heartbeat that night in the bar.

She pushes the plate away and stares back at him coldly, refusing to acknowledge the burning lump of tears in her throat.

_I don't want you anymore. I don't see how anyone could…_

"So can I go? Are we done here?"

The taste of bile is already in her mouth and she actually yearns for the relief she'll feel once the delicious eggs and fries are discarded. But he shakes his head.

"No."

"What?"

Confusion sets in. And panic. She ate, right? Ate a lot more than she has in a long time. And now she needs to get out of here, because it's not only the food inside her that's making her nauseous. Being in this room with him does it too. It makes her think of all the things she had done with the boy sitting across the table from her and the fact that he has touched her and seen her naked. He knows how disgusting she is… he _knows_…

"That wasn't our deal, Blair. You were supposed to prove that you could eat like a normal person, without throwing up. If you leave now then this proves nothing."

"Why are you torturing me?" she asks and hates that her panic is starting to show through the cracks. "Nate would never do this…"

"Well, I thought we established that I'm not Nathaniel. Nate is a gullible loser when it comes to you, but you can't manipulate me like you did him. Haven't you caught on to that yet?"

What is she supposed to answer to that?

"So we just sit here?" she asks and raises her eyebrow mockingly, while trying to ignore the way her stomach turns and turns.

"Yeah."

The clock ticks in the background and none of them say anything for the next few minutes. Then his phone rings and while he answers it she longingly eyes the door to his bathroom.

"Listen Blair, I need to see my father for a second. I'll be gone five minutes at most, just don't go anywhere."

She nods and on the inside she's already smiling viciously. Five minutes? Hell, she needs no more than two. And as soon as the door closes behind him, she's up on her feet and bolts into the safe haven of clinkered walls. She quickly ties her hair back with the rubberband around her wrist and kneels over the toilet, realizing that she doesn't even have to put her fingers in her mouth. The food comes up regardless.

It takes her less than a minute to empty her stomach and she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and starts to get back on her feet to freshen up before Chuck returns. But when she looks up she sees his reflection in the bathroom mirror and she realizes that he's been standing there all along.

His face is sad. Eyebrows furrowed and brown eyes squinting.

"You tricked me…" she whispers, and he nods slowly.

"I hate you."

The words fall from her lips before she can stop herself. And she's prepared for having him give her the disgusted look and the smirk that says he's won. But he just nods again and says;

"I know."

He's just seen her at her most vulnerable. Her least honourable, hunched and puking over a toilet bowl, and all he can say is 'I know'.

Calmly she rinses her mouth with faucet-water and washes her hands. Then she tries to pass him in the doorway, because its time for her to leave now. She has no idea what this means or what will happen now. And she's even surprising herself with the lack of emotional outbursts and yelling and tears. But when she tries to push past him, he just reaches out and stops her. Circles his arm around her and pulls her against him to envelope her in a tight hug.

"No Chuck…" she whispers, but he doesn't let go. He just holds her and hugs her in silence.

She can feel her body go limp in his arms and she closes her eyes and concentrates on breathing. On not _feeling_.

"Tell me what you need, Blair" he whispers in her ear, and the first tear rolls down her cheek before she even realizes that she's crying. "Tell me what you need to be able to stop this…"

She sucks in a breath and stifles the sobs that are sure to come. The nauseous feeling in her stomach hasn't left yet, but now her racing pulse is adding an even sharper sting to her feeling of numbness.

What she needs? She wishes she knew that herself.

But she doesn't.

Thursday, January 224th 2008

**-c-**

"She's sick again" he says to Serena as he stops the blonde outside of school the next morning. "Blair is making herself sick."

Serena gives him a weird look as if he's just told her something completely unbelievable and shakes her head.

"No she's not."

"Yes she is."

She shakes her head again and he's already frustrated with her. This is like a game that little kids played in the sandbox. Yes, no, yes, no…

"Don't fucking contradict me" he hisses. "It's not a question. I'm _telling_ you. Blair is sick!"

Serena sucks in a breath and looks at him sternly. Waits a couple of seconds as if to see if he's going to smirk and tell her that he's joking. But he doesn't.

"How do you know?" she then asks quietly. "You don't even talk to her."

He sighs. The blonde is so naïve. But that was the base of all blonde-jokes, right? The blonder the hair, the lesser intelligence. If Serena didn't spend all her time with her tongue down Brooklyn-boy's throat then maybe _she_ would be the one telling him this and not the other way around.

"I've seen her do it. Let's just keep it at that. But I can't fix her so _you_ need to do it."

He can't fix her because he's supposed to hate her. He's supposed to stay far away from her and he's supposed to make sure that tiny butterflies are kept dead and buried.

Serena frowns and makes that little movement with her head that shows that she's getting pissed off. A lioness watching her pray. She's always been like that, little S. Always ready to have her precious Blair's back. Except for at the Shepard's wedding when she was busy being on her own back, spreading her legs for Nate.

"What did you do to her?" she hisses. "Chuck, don't you fucking play games with me. This is serious. If Blair is sick again, then she needs help."

"And that's what I'm saying. Aren't you listening to me?"

He's getting more and more frustrated by the minute. Why the hell would he be standing out here, freezing his butt off waiting for her, if he wasn't trying to make sure of just that? That Blair got help.

"I'm saying that Waldorf is puking again and that I can't help her" he continues. "She's keeping up appearances but if you don't fix her, then she'll crack, okay?"

He turns and starts to leave, feeling confident that this would be taken care of now. Serena had been through this before with Blair so she'd know what to do. But Serena grabs his shoulder and whips him back around and he groans in anger.

"Fix her?" she yells. "I can't just _fix_ her, Chuck! It took a year to get her healthy the last time! What the hell did you do?"

'I tried to make her mine' he thinks, but he doesn't say that. Instead he says; "Nothing! I didn't do anything!"

He tried making Blair his and it backfired. She picked Nate. It wasn't his fucking fault that Nate didn't want her, so why is he feeling so guilty? She did that to herself by running after a guy that obviously had no interest in her, right? He even told her that, and if she didn't listen, then it wasn't his fault.

Honestly, if he could make Nate love Blair then he would. If that would help straighten this situation he'd do anything to make that happen. But he knows Nate, sometimes even better than he knows himself, and he knows that there's no use.

Nate had this view of Blair as this perfect little Stepford wife. A pure and perfectly behaved virgin. And even though Nathaniel had seemed enthralled by the new version of his ex, back when he himself was seeing her, he knows that it had been a simple case of Nate's usual want for what he couldn't have.

Nate would care about Blair, probably for years to come, but he would never _love_ her. And that seemed to be the only thing Blair really wanted.

"I haven't touched her" he says silently to the still unconvinced blonde. "I haven't blackmailed her or said anything stupid. I just know, okay?"

Serena looks like she again wants to ask him 'How?', but then her shoulders drop an inch and she looks extremely tired all of a sudden.

There's a minute of silence while she seems to contemplate what to do. She scans the schoolyard, probably for Lonely Boy of Blair herself, and then she looks at him. There's no anger left on her face, only guilt.

"Thanks Chuck…" she says and sighs. "I need to go talk to her. I'll see you later, alright?"

He simply nods.

What if this didn't work?

If it doesn't, then he has no idea what to do.

**..--..**

-l-

* * *

Author's note: That was the third chapter and the forth isn't far away. I guess some of you feel that I'm concentrating a little too much on Blair, but she and Chuck are after all the main characters of this story and Chuck will get more spotlight soon. I'm in love with all your reviews and I'm so proud that so many of you says that you like my Chuck. Isn't he precious? ;)

Thank you's

**Daniel**: Baby, thank you so much for the great advice you gave me about the end of this chapter. The alterations really made a huge difference. I can't wait until tomorrow. Love you.

**Cheyenne**: Hun, I'm still emotional after the amazing thank you that you wrote me in your last Author's note for 'Beauty From Pain'. It was the sweetest thing and I seriously mean it; it made my week. I've missed you lately when work has been in the way of me staying up late, hence not ever running into you on msn. Hopefully that will get better soon and we will get to talk more, like tonight. I miss discussing BC with you and I really appreciated your opinion on this chapter. To sum it up: I love you.

**Stefy**: My sick little sweetie. You were such help for me with this, but then again, you always are. :D I'm so thankful for the way you even started watching the show just to be able to work with me on this. You're amazing and I hope you know it. I really hope you feel better soon baby. Love you sooo much and I'll make sure to text you tomorrow. Kiss.

And to **Corey**, who jumped in to cover for Stefy. You rock hun! Maybe me and Chey will be able to fully convert you into a BCer soon. ;)

**Gracie**: It's so great that we're both not only BLers but also CBers LOL. I just read your new chapter-story and I'm loving it. I also love that this will be a new trigger for updates. You update – I update. ;) And i'm so glad that you're still liking this, because I loved all your oneshots. Review for your new fic is coming up as soon as I get back from Germany.

**Sharon** (gleechild): I'm glad you're still approving :D And thank you so much for that PM. I'm sorry that I never got around to answering it but I took the liberty to add you on msn. Oh, and by the way; I stick to what I said. I still see you as a well known and very talented CB writer.

**Fallen Heart**: Well, miscommunication seems to be one of Blair's and Chuck's biggest problems, both in my story and on the real show. But then again, what would be the fun if the just threw themselves at each other and lived happily ever after? ;) Thank you for reviewing.

**Chairforever**: I'm glad you like long chapters, because I'm really bad at writing short ones (as everybody who's read my One Tree Hill stories know). They tend to get longer and longer further into the story lol. Thank you for your review.

**Papillonbelle**: The metaphor will come in handy ;) And thanks so much for those kind words hun. :D

**Cda489**: it's true what you say; everybody loves a bad boy, especially one as hot as Chuck. And maybe he was a little too soft in this chapter? What do you say? Thank you so much for your comment about the dialogue. It made my day.

**Msmetaphor**: Thank you for those kind words. :D I hope the Blair/Chuck scenes in this chapter was to your content. Dan and Serena are hard for me to write since I feel much more kinship with Blair and Chuck, but I need their p.o.v's. ;)

**Blood Red Kiss of Death**: I loved that review and you sure proved that you write good ones. :D I hope that you liked this chapter even though it was a little less dramatic in the beginning. The stalking continuous as you can see, and I guess we'll have to see about the CN friendship... ;)

**Jem** (flipflopgal): I love that you love that Serena is so caring of Blair. And I also love that you're reading my GG story as well as my OTH ones. Thank you :D

**Actec18**: You finally got your wish and Chuck told Serena. Now we'll have to see what she does with the information... ;) And about Jenny; LOL I suggest you do as Chuck and bide your time. (Just so you know though, I don't like Jenny at all). Thanks for a great review :D

**Literati and naley forever**: Yeah, Brooke and Lucas was my first love although i have no idea whats going on in the head of Mark Schwan. I love scheming Blair and Chuck, and I promise you that plans will be made, they just have some more acute issues to deal with first. Thank you.

**KateWoods**: Georgina will be introduced, but I'm a few eppies behind the show lol. See, in this fic Serena didn't just become all chummy with Chuck because she realized that it wasn't him who sent the stuff... But you'll see ;) Thanks for the review.

**Dazzledlight**: What a great review. Gah. And I agree on all you said; Blair needs Chuck, Serena needs to be less blind and Dan… yeah Dan is just Dan I guess LOL. But you wanna know a great thing? I can make anything happen in this story ;) Thank you so much for all your beautiful compliments. You're making me blush…

**Missscarlettbelle**: I'm putting Brazilliant in my dictionary. It's a perfect word to me :D Thank you.

**D R O W N I N G-I N-S E Q U I N S**: I'm doing these thank you's because YOU guys are the bomb. LOL. I wouldn't be writing this if it weren't for the readers that tell me what they think. I'm in love with your review. :D It seems that you and chuck agree on Serenas blondness… oh and by the way, who doesn't love a sweet badass? ;)

**GreyRibbon**: I think all scenes in a limo is brilliant when it comes to Blair and Chuck LOL. Just look at the 'are you sure'-scene on the show… gah… thanks for your sweet review.

**LizaGirl**: LOL, my friend Stefy did the same thing and watched it all at once. It's hard to stop, right? Thank you for reviewing.

**Sixte3n Candl3s**: Thank you hun. I hope I fixed most of the grammatical errors this time. I'm happy to hear that I still have your support though lol. And G will be introduced, but a major part would be pushing it I think. To create brilliance I have to stick to Blair and Chuck ;)

**Noirreigne**: Chuck is pretty amazing, right? ;) Now if only Blair could see that for real… Thank you so much for your reviews.

**Annablake**and** Lovetaker101**: Thank you! I loved those reviews and I like that I'm not the only one that likes Chuck being jealous of Dan LOL. I want to hug Chuck too. And he is bitter and cynical, but who can blame him? He's in love with Blair, right? :D

**Mystripedskirt**, **Lacquer** and **Pokey**: It makes me so happy that you guys like the different point of views and what I did with the characters. Its hard to do Blair and Chuck justice, but with your reviews I'll keep trying :D Thank you.

**BlairCorneliaWaldorfBass**, **Ramses-Lives**,** Snea**, **Sofie**, **Kitkatbaby611**, **Darkangel1910**, .**x.imagine.x**., **Ella**, **SpiderMonkey19**: thanks all of you for reading and reviewing. I appreciate it so much. :D


	4. The Ice Is Getting Thinner

Author's note: Sorry for the delay. The usual drill of course; life, work, friends, a crazy bachelorettes party… if it weren't for Elena (Typokween) I wouldn't have gotten this out at all. But I did finally and here's chapter four. Thank you's are at the end.

* * *

**How We Breathe**

**.¨-¨.**

**Chapter 4 – The Ice Is Getting Thinner**

January 25th, 2008

**-b-**

She hates her body.

Not only because she weighs a little too much still, but because it reminds her of the fact that she's lacking character strength. She should be able to stay skinny and in shape. She should be able to mould the flesh and bones to her liking, just like she does with the people around her.

Or maybe she should say 'like she used to do' because honestly, she's not really moulding anyone other than herself these days. And just like the mirror-image tells her, she's not doing very well.

"Stop looking at your self like that, Blair" Serena's voice comes from the doorway. "You look perfect."

Lies, lies, lies… Just like in the schoolyard, they both keep lying. And while Serena does it to protect them both, she does it to hide. It's the way it's always been.

"Thank you" she answers curtly and flattens out the wrinkles in her skirt. "Are you ready to go?"

Her blond friend bites her glossy bottom lip as if contemplating what to say, but Serena seems to decide that silence is golden, because she simply nods. A slight irritation turns over inside her but she shrugs it away. After all, this is what she wants, right? For Serena to not interfere in her business. Wasn't that why she had come straight out and lied when Serena cornered her yesterday morning and asked her if she was sick again? Wasn't what why she had looked straight into her best friend's eyes and said that Chuck was psycho and that all of the things he had said to Serena was just another way of his to punish her?

But then why does part of her want Serena to see through her, slap her silly and yell at her to stop?

Why does part of her just want to scream out loud?

-c-

"Chuck Bass! Open the damn door!"

The voice echoes through the entire 12th floor of the Palace. But he just turns up the volume on his ipod and rests back against the pillows. It's seven o'clock in the evening and if his future stepsister thinks that he's going to open the door, then Serena Van der Woodsen is even more naive than she looks.

He knows what she wants; even if he can't hear her muffled rant through the door. And nothing on the planet is less appealing to him right now then another lecture. _Nothing_.

Well, maybe except for another argument with Blair.

It's weird how it's always the people that he wants to impress and be around that turn their back on him. His father, Nathaniel, Blair…

It doesn't matter that Bart called him several times the last couple of days to say sorry. Its not what he wants.

The people that drive him insane though, they keep harassing him around the fucking clock. Like Serena who's name is right now also flashing on the display of his cell-phone. For the life of god, he just wants the stupid blonde to leave him alone.

For the tenth time he presses a button on his cell and sends the call to voice-mail. The knocking on the door has died down for the moment and he leans back in the couch. Serena pisses him off, maybe because he has actually made an effort to be nice to her lately. But instead of listening to him yesterday morning when he spoke to her about Blair, Serena chose to believe the lies of her bulimic friend. At least that much became obvious when the duo walked into calculus-class merely an hour after he talked to the blonde, and she and Blair were acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

If she wanted to talk to him then, she could have. But she didn't. She chose to believe Blair.

And now she was most certainly here to yell at him for spreading lies about her friend, although it should be clear to her that it's Blair that is doing the lying.

He closes his eyes and shoves the ringing phone in under the pillows. Why wouldn't Blair lie to Serena? Of course she does. Waldorf seemed to want _everyone_ to stay out of her business. Sighing, he thinks back to the other night. However he tries, he still can't grasp how it had turned out…

_When Blai__r broke apart in his bathroom, he'd had no clue what he was supposed to do. Of all the things in the world to feel uncomfortable with, crying girls was the worst. Especially a crying Blair Waldorf. So he just rubbed her back and held her. Wished that he could ask the right things, but instead he found himself saying;_

"_Tell me what you need to be able to stop this…"_

_She answered nothing of course, and most of all he was surprised that she didn't keep trying to push him away. She just clung to him, grabbing the fabric of his shirt as if she would fall if she didn't, and on the inside he was fighting a war._

_The fluttering of butterflies __fought with hot anger over the fact that she could do this to herself. She wasn't supposed to be flawed. She was his epitome of perfection, even though he didn't want to admit it, and she weren't supposed to hate herself this much._

"_I won't let you do this…" he mumbled, almost sounding angry. "Do you hear me? Just fucking tell me what you need."_

_This time she did push back, but she didn't look at him._

"_Just leave it…" she sobbed. "This is not your problem. I'm not your problem."_

_At this he just laughed. However he wanted it to be that way or not, she had always been his damn problem, much thanks to Nathaniel's stupidity. But this wasn't just some minor detail__ like Nate forgetting a date with her or not remembering her favorite flower. This was serious. Blair was sick._

"_Listen to me" he said and grabbed her upper arms. "No more. I've tried making you stop, I even ruined my dad's dinner for you. Today was the last time. Okay?"_

_Her hiccupping sobs stilled somewhat and her back straightened a little. Then, eyes that seemed a lot more confused than before, looked up and met his. As if something had just dawned on her._

"_Why are you doing __all this?" she mumbled, and he had this strange urge to lift her up and cradle her like a small child. She looked so damn broken. But of course he didn't cradle her. That would have been stupid. Instead he just kept looking at her._

"_Someone has to, Waldorf" he almost whispered. "You'd be a mess if you were left to your own devices."_

_For a second her eyes grew soft. A bittersweet softness that pierced his skin like tiny needles, because no one ever looked at him in a soft way except for Blair. No one had ever understood him like she did, and he had ruined all that the night in the bar. _

"_I won't let you keep doing this, Blair..." he repeated and her eyes turned back to the floor._

"_Don't tell me what to do."_

_Soft voice__ still, but clear statement. The damsel in distress didn't want saving, at least not by him. _

"_Stop making yourself sick."_

"_Then tell your dad to stop slapping you around."_

_He frowned and she looked up at him again. Sad. They were in his own bathroom, he had just walked in on her while she threw up in his toilet, and she turned the tables over on him. Pushed the spotlight to shine on him instead of on her._

_Slowly he let go of her arms._

"_What do you mean__, Waldorf?"_

_The conversation wasn't going the way he wanted it to go and suddenly he almost wished that she'd go back to being a crying mess in his arms._

"_He left a bruise. And you're not really skilled with the concealer Chuck… Was it because of what you did with the buffet?"_

_She reached up and felt his skin with her fingertip. "I thought you said he'd never do it again?" _

_He__ took a step back, shrugging away from her gesture because her prodding but gentle touch hurt more than the actual punch. It was easier around an angry Blair. Gentle Blair still frightened him and awakened the sleeping butterflies. _

"_Stop that" he muttered. "We're talking about you, Waldorf. Not me."_

_When she looked at him it threw him off that he couldn't read her face. Just like she understood him, he was supposed to understand her. But when he expected anger, or maybe even resentment, he only found sadness, worry, maybe even disappointed._

"_I won't tell if you don't…" she said quietly while taking yet another step away from him. "You'll stay out of my business and I'll stay out of yours."_

_He squinted and carefully touched the skin under his right eye himself. Five days and it still hurt like fuck. But right then it had been worth it._

"_It's not the same thing, Blair. You need help."_

_She was already by the door by then and she reached for the handle. Tears were still glistening in the corners of her eyes and her perfect appearance seemed 'wrinkled'. A beautiful, evil mess of a girl that fucked with his mind so thoroughly that he felt like he wanted to scream. He wanted to help her, god knew why, but he did. And she managed to throw it all back in his face, just like she had when he told her about the fluttering in his stomach._

_She was never supposed to mention what his dad had done. She had _promised_ him._

"_I've got it under control" she mumbled, but her voice wasn't at all as strong as usual. Then her eyes searched his for a second. "__And you hate me, remember? Why do you act like you care Chuck?"_

_And just like the tim__e when she asked him in the limo he got ready to answer 'I _don't_ care,' but when it came down to it, he couldn't. _

_Because it wasn't true. _

_It was all fucking lies because honestly h__e cared so much more than he wanted to. Even now, when she was practically threatening him in order for him to stay out of her life, he wanted nothing but to claw his way back in._

"_I'm just a tainted whore, remember?" she pushed on. "Ridden hard and put away wet… wasn't that what you said?"_

'_No', he wanted to say. 'I said I had feelings for you, and you laughed at me…' __But in reality, he said nothing. Nothing._

_She turned the handle and he watched in slow motion as the door opened. __And then finally his lips moved._

"_You're not tainted, Blair…"_

_He wanted his voice to be harsh but it came out softer than ever. She didn't seem to notice though, because she was already backing out through the open door._

"_No? Then I guess to you, I'm just a whore…"_

_Surprisingly, her eyes weren't even cold when she said it._

Now, two days later, he still tries not to think about how she looked at him and he hates that he can't get over the look in her eyes.

Frustrated, he stands up and walks over to the window. Maybe he _should_ talk to Serena again. He needs to get this fucking mess with Georgina straightened anyway. From what the blonde told him the other day, little old G is back in town and ready for warfare.

Lighting a cigarette, he wonders why in the hell everything always has to happen at once. Blair being sick, Serena in this fucking mess with Georgie, Nate acting like whiny little girl and on top of it all, his father…

Sure, Bart was under a lot of pressure with the upcoming wedding but having his dad on the verge of losing his temper every five seconds is not making the situation any easier.

The knocking starts again and he growls and stomps over to the door. Ripping the door open, he then stands eye to eye with the blonde.

"What the hell is your god damn problem, S?" he hisses. "Can't you take a fucking hint?"

She snorts back a "Shut up, Bass!" and shoves past him into the hotelroom. For a person that's been trying to kick his door in for the last ten minutes, she is awfully quiet though. She just walks over to the window where his cigarette still burns in the ashtray, puts her hands on the windowsill and looks down onto the busy street.

He waits. He has no urge to make this any easier for her and he's got all evening. So instead of asking her what the hell she wants, he simply closes the door and walks over to the bar. He's been drinking a lot more than usual lately but who can blame him? What else can he do when all of the Upper East Side seems to have gone totally insane?

"She lied to my face" Serena then finally mutters, just as he pours the amber liquid into a tumbler. "She's my _best_ friend and she didn't even flinch when she stood there and straight up lied."

He raises the glass to his mouth and takes a big mouthful. Maybe Serena isn't so naïve after all…

His entire body aches to shout 'I told you so!' but he doesn't. Instead he turns towards her and nods.

"So what are we gonna do about this?" he then asks and twirls the whiskey with gentle motions that are totally opposite to the chaos in his head. "We need to do something, right?"

Serena sighs but nods as well.

"Yeah, I just don't know what."

January 27th, 2008

**-b-**

It's harder to concentrate in school lately. Somehow she doesn't have the same energy and she's not sure why but she just gets so tired all the time. Last night she totally missed the cocktails with her mother and this morning she found herself almost falling asleep in assembly, forcing Kati to elbow her twice to keep her awake.

So now she's gulping down masses of black coffee in an effort to make the lunch-break pass as quickly as possible. She can't afford anything that can somehow make Serena more suspicious or worried. It's bad enough that she had to lie the other day.

It's all Chuck's fault she decides and sips the coffee again. If he could just keep his god damn mouth shut about stuff that wasn't of his concern, then life would be a hell of a lot easier for everyone.

But Chuck Bass is the devil's spawn.

He's evil, manipulative, repulsing and dangerous. And he knows way too much about her.

She doesn't even want to think about the other night in his suite when he walked in on her. The whole evening is pushed back to a dark corner of her subconscious. But yet she's totally aware of what he could do with this particular piece of information. He could destroy her completely with this; shove her down the last steps of the social ladder all the way into the dirt. And she's almost surprised that he hasn't told Gossip Girl yet. The only reason is probably that he wants to save his own ass since she has a few goodies about him as well.

Either way; she hates him. So why the hell can't she take her eyes off of him?

She quickly averts her eyes when he looks back at her from the other side of the schoolyard. She feels dirty for watching him. For even thinking about him.

The way he had rejected her when she came to him in the bar weeks ago should make her _never_ want to look at him again. But now, when his left hand plays with his scarf and the right one reaches into his pocket for his cigarettes, she finds herself thinking of those hands doing other things.

Soft hands that never did a day of hard work and that felt like silk on her skin when he…

No.

Her cell phone saves her by beeping in her purse and when she retrieves it, she notices that people around her are doing the same thing. Gossip Girl. She nonchalantly flips the phone open and braces herself for whatever bullshit that is about to get spread.

_Good morning Upper East siders. __Am I losing my touch? It has come to my attention that G has been seen back in town. I certainly didn't see that one coming. And apparently she is siding up with C since she was seen coming out of his suite this morning… I wonder how S feels about this? Then again, maybe she's happy to just keep it all in the family? You know you love me.  
xoxo Gossip Girl…_

She reads it again before looking up to see Serena walking down the stairs, also with her phone in her hand. She wants to turn and walk away, because keeping up the façade around S is getting tiresome, but she also needs to know what the hell Georgina is doing back. Georgina is like a plague, or a disease… and Serena seems to always get caught in the girl's web.

"Blair…" the blonde says almost shyly once she gets closer. "I'm sorry about yesterday… I…"

"What's Georgie doing back?" she interrupts with a sharp voice. "Did you know she was coming? Do you know why she went to see Chuck?"

Serena frowns and the look of concern deepens. She hates the pity that resides in the features of her friend but she's used to it by now and she shrugs it off.

"She contacted me awhile ago… Chuck is just trying to help with getting her off my back. Don't worry about it B, really…"

What Serena is trying to say is most definitely; _don't worry about it because you're sick and you shouldn't bother your little head with other peoples mess_. But how can she not? Last time Georgina Sparks was on the Upper East Side, complete mayhem broke loose.

She hoists the purse up and looks at Serena more intently.

"Come on S… I'm not a child. Just tell me what's going on."

Serena looks around and her facial expression is hesitant. She bites her bottom lip and waits.

"Okay…" Serena eventually sighs. "But not here. Let's go to Starbucks on 51st."

They walk off quickly and in the corner of her eye, she sees Chuck watch them. He makes a move as if to follow them but then seems to decide against it and she breathes out thankfully. One thing at the time, she thinks.

One stupid thing at the time.

**-s-**

There's no knock on the door. No 'Can I come in?' to alert his presence. Chuck just walks into her room as if it was his own and stops right in front of her where she sits on her bed. She gets ready to yell at him to get the fuck out, but he interrupts her before she even has time to open her mouth.

"What are these?" he says and pulls three containers of pills out of his pocket. "I found them in Blair's bag."

And instead of yelling, she just looks back at him with a shocked expression.

"You went through her bag?"

"Yes of course."

His voice is dry and self-confident, as if it should be totally clear to her that this is something that had to be done. And it probably is. It's just that she would never dare. She won't gladly admit it, but going through anything that belongs to Blair without the brunette's permission wouldn't even cross her mind. Blair is way too scary when she's pissed off.

Instead she stays quiet and accepts the jars he's handing her. One she recognizes immediately. Blair's trusted companion, the Lexipro. Anxiety suppressors that her friend had taken for years and that she sometimes wonders if Blair will ever be free of.

The container of Laxoberal concerns her a lot more. The laxative was one of the first things that Dr. Sherman confiscated from Blair last time, and the disappointment washes over her like a bucket of cold water. But it's when she turns the third container and reads 'Adderall' on the label

that the very last ounce of hope that she had of Chuck being wrong disappears.

"Fuck…" she whispers and Chuck looks at her expectantly.

"What, S?"

What should she tell him? That this is worse than she thought? He's probably got that part already. She could tell him that Adderall is mostly used to treat attention deficit hyperactivity disorders or sometimes depression, but that wouldn't make him any wiser. So she decides to go with the only thing on the list that he really needs to know.

"This is an appetite suppressant. She's never taken these before…"

Chuck frowns.

"Then how do you know what it is?" he asks and takes the bottle of pills back, probably to look at it more closely. "And why does it say attention definition…whatever?"

"It's ADHD-meds."

The frown on his face turns to a confused squint and he looks at the label.

"What? Blair doesn't have ADHD."

"No, and since she doesn't, these pills just make her 'not hungry'…"

She sighs. She should have called Elenore days ago, or preferably right after thanksgiving when Blair called her and cried. She should have known that the one time-occasion of Blair making herself sick wasn't just that; _One time_. She should have done what was needed back then, because maybe this wouldn't have escalated this far if she had.

She glances at Chuck and waits for the evil remarks starting with 'I told you so.' But they don't come. Instead he saunters over to her desk and flips her lap-top open.

"What are you doing?" she asks and leans forward to get a better view of the screen.

He doesn't answer at first. He just opens Google and punches in a couple of letters in the search field before he presses enter. Then he mumbles; "Research. Blair's always said that a good plan starts with research…"

Inwardly she sighs. Chuck and Blair are too alike for their own good. And yet she realizes that Chuck is probably exactly what Blair needs. Because if there's anyone that can force her best friend to see the truth, then it's the bastard of a step-brother that is currently occupying her computer. It's just that she feels as if there's something that he's not telling her. Something in his posture that seems a little weighed by guilt.

"I can't believe how she can be so damn blind…" Chuck sighs and starts reading the list of web-pages that appears. She watches him pull a hand through his hair in frustration and then he rubs his jaw.

"What do you mean?"

"She's perfect!" he barks, suddenly so loudly that she flinches. "There's not a goddamn flaw on her. I can't fucking get why she _does_ this!"

The calm is gone and she unconsciously pulls back when he leaves the computer again and starts pacing back and forth. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and she shakes her head. Surprisingly he folds and puts them back.

"Control, Chuck…" she says tiredly. "Blair needs to be in control. And _she_ doesn't think that she's perfect…"

He looks so confused by all this that she can't help but to feel sympathy. And risking the temper-tantrum that is sure to follow, she adds; "Why don't you just tell her how you feel about her? Maybe you'd both feel better if you did?"

He _has_ feelings for her friend, that's easy to see, but she still expects him to bite her head off. To instantly go into defence-mode and deny it all. But instead he just turns and watches her with a very un-Chuck-like gaze. Slowly he picks some lint off of his Saville Row pullover and flicks it away. Straightens his scarf.

"I did" he then says clearly. "She knows that I love her."

She sits there, just looking at him while her brain works to catch up. Wait… _Chuck Bass_ has told _Blair Waldorf_ that he _loves_ her?

Confusion mixes with a strange sense of amusement, or maybe its just shock. So much has happened in the last few months that she feels as if she can't keep up. She came back to a Blair that seemed a lot colder than the one she left. A Blair that dumped Nate, the guy she was destined to marry, and moved on to sleeping with Chuck, Upper East side's notorious sleazebag. And while she herself found love with a guy that was so far from what she usually dated, same said Chuck fell _in love_ with Blair?

She had known for some time now that her future step-brother was infatuated with her best friend. But that he _loved_ her?

"What did she say?" she finally asks, but she never gets the answer. Because Chuck's cell phone starts ringing and when he looks at the display, he frowns with confusion too.

"Waldorf?" he asks into the phone. "What gives me the honor?"

Curious, she watches him listen while the brunette talks on the line, and with a simple "Okay" he hangs up and grabs the coat that he has thrown on her chair.

"Find out what the pills do" he mutters and points towards the still open laptop. "I've gotta go see Blair."

She blinks. "What? She wants to see you?"

"Yeah. Apparently she thinks I can't handle Georgie. She wants to plan her demise." He still looks a little confused but a faint smirk plays at the corners of his mouth. "I figure that it's good if she keeps herself occupied" he drawls and heads towards the door with a newfound straightness in his back. "I guess we just switched responsibilities… You'll handle the research and I'll entertain Blair."

Silently she just nods. The world is spinning _way_ too fast nowadays.

Chuck _loves_ Blair.

She can't wait to tell Dan.

* * *

**..--..**

**Author's note****:** I'm still a little overwhelmed that so many of you welcomed this story with so many wonderful words. So many long amazing reviews that make me feel proud of this story.  
I hope that the time passed since the last chapter hasn't made you lose interest. Your reviews warm my heart.

But right now I'm in a flow (for the first time in weeks and I so owe that to Elena, my favorite typokween) and instead of writing long personal thank you's, I'm gonna keep writing chapter 5. I hope you don't get disappointed. Hopefully you want this Blair/Chuck plotting-scene enough not to hate me. ;)

**Thank you's:**

Elena (Typokween)

Cheyenne (jeytonbrucasnaley)

Daniel (FloatingDownARiver)

Blood Red Kiss Of Death

Six (Sixte3n Cand3ls)

AnnaBlake

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D R O W N-I N-S E Q U I N S

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And finally… LOL, it would be fun to know who the anonymous person is that wrote me the review saying; "You win". I won what? And what was the contest?


	5. A Beautiful Mess

**AN:** Long overdue, but that's how it is sometimes. I'm sorry that it often takes me months between updates on my stories nowadays but that's the sad thing with being a free-time writer; life and work always gets in the way… Anyways, a big thank you to all of you who are still reading this.

* * *

**How We Breathe**

**.¨-¨.**

**Chapter 5 – A Beautiful Mess**

January 27th, 2008

**-c-**

Blair paces back and forth in her bedroom, deep thought etched into deep crevices over her brow as if she's silently contemplating her next move. And he watches her completely enthralled. Minutes pass and in that time he can gradually see the tension begin to ease away. She's still clearly upset but the venom in her voice has lessened and her eyes aren't as cold. Instead she appears... _void_. It's the same emptiness she's been displaying for weeks.

He wants to say '_Don't worry about this. You know I can handle Georgina_', but he doesn't. He holds back, because saying that will probably launch her into another long and angry rant and he's tired of listening to her hissing and yowling. Plus, his mind is far too busy with trying not to picture her naked.

Though her skin is more pale than it usually is, and the curves he remembers are more angled and thin, she still looks gorgeous. _Dangerously_ gorgeous. Good enough to make the irritating fluttering in his chest fall second to the tightening sensation in his groin.

"I still can't believe that not one of you idiots told me about this," she mutters, "I can't believe that I had to find out from Gossip Girl!"

He groans tiredly and lets his gaze fall from the curve of her ass to the floor. They've been over and over this the latest half hour. Gone over why she had been left out of the loop of things, and frankly, they haven't gotten anywhere.

"Let it go, Waldorf. This 'broken record'-thing is very unbecoming." He stands up and crosses the room over to her vanity. "I've already taken some precautions and Georgie knows that she'll be in deep shit if she comes anywhere near either you or S."

He picks up one of her headbands and as he turns it in his hand, he can feel her watching him.

"What do you mean _me_ or S? This has nothing to do with me." She sounds annoyed and he turns towards her and meets her eyes.

"No?" he asks with a sarcastic undertone to his voice. "Are you forgetting that little old Georgina used to give Gossip Girl a run for her money? You two weren't exactly best friends when she left and I bet she'd love to get back at you."

He puts the headband back without mentioning that he remembers when she last wore it. Instead of telling her that she looked beautiful in it on her birthday, he simply smirks and she hisses like a cornered wildcat.

"Stay on the _subject_, Bass! We're supposed to be plotting against the returning bitch, not talking about gossip."

"Don't be stupid, _Waldorf,_" he counter-attacks just as fiercely. "Georgie has a nose for scandals. She'll spot your new _eating-habits_ from miles away."

The second the words leave his mouth, he curses inwardly. He had promised himself not to bring that up tonight. It's been so tense between them the last couple of days and tonight is the first time she's actually uttered whole sentences in his company.

One wrong word and suddenly he can feel her withdrawing.

"Georgina is a _loser,_" Blair mumbles and turns away from him. "If you would just concentrate on the matter at hand, we'd have her gone before the week is over."

He hates how empty her voice is. The spark is gone and so is the manipulating evilness that usually lights fires in his groin. She paces and then stops. Paces again. And when she passes him the third time, he reaches out and grabs her wrist.

He holds on to her arm and pulls her in front of him before reaching up and grasping her thin shoulders. With soft motions he rubs them and she stays stiff as a rod.

"You're so tense," he mutters, a little surprised that she's not pushing him away. "Try and relax, Waldorf."

Her head tilts to the left and she breathes out a strained, "I _am_ relaxed."

Like _hell_ she is.

He holds her gaze until she is the one that looks away and he _hates_ that she does. She never used to back down. She used to push and push and pout and whine until he wanted to strangle her, but she always won, at least with him.

Letting out a silent disappointed breath, he lets his hands drop and walks towards her door. "Then let's plot, my dear. I'm just going to go raid Elenore's bar-cabinet first." He puts the hand on the door handle. "Care for a drink, B?"

Surprisingly she nods.

**-b-**

She sits cross-legged on the bedspread and waits when Chuck returns with two tumblers half-filled with amber liquid. Disgusted, she makes a face because she already knows its whiskey. The ice cubes floating around in the glasses tell her that he's once again wrapped Dorota around his finger and she can't for the life of her figure out how.

Usually, Dorota is a great judge of character, but when it comes to the boys in her life she figures that Dorota must be confused. As long as she can remember, their housekeeper has been short and almost impolite towards Nate, but she's always had a certain love for Chuck. In all honesty, Nate was the 'nice' boy and it should really be the other way around.

"I think we should start by checking that the little junkie doesn't have more stuff on S," Chuck mutters and hands her one of the tumblers. His fingers graze hers for a second and she frowns at the unexpected electrical sensation that the touch ignites.

"And how do you suggest we'd do that?" she replies dryly and rolls her eyes when she realizes that he has the bottle squeezed under his arm. "It's not like Georgina will come right out and give us that information." She sips the fluid and makes a face. It tastes awful but the label says Morrison Bowmore and she's been around Chuck enough to know that is expensive. "Plus," she adds, "don't you think that the fact that Serena might have _killed_ a guy is bad enough?"

She watches him more closely when he strolls over to the window and looks out at the traffic. He seems more tensed than when he left the room and he mutters out a condescending, "Don't be ridiculous. Serena couldn't kill a bug if she wanted to."

Down deep in her belly, an old green monster stirs.

_Serena couldn't do that. Not perfect little Serena... _

Guiltily, she pushes it back and takes another sip of the whiskey. She wishes that she could do something about the lightheaded feeling she's experiencing but Chuck had come over faster than she had expected and strangely enough, her stash of Lexapro wasn't where she'd left it. So the alcohol it is, she just needs to take the edge off the awkwardness of having Chuck in her room and the churning in her stomach caused by another skipped over dinner.

As she sips the glass in silence, a weird thought occur in her head. How could something that tasted so bad bring memories of something that tasted so good? The taste of the -79 Scottish Whiskey is heinous, but she remembers loving it on Chuck's breath and lips.

Her thoughts are shattered by his huff from over by the window and confused, she looks back up to find him watching her with his usual burning gaze.

"Have you forgotten how to do research or what?" he mutters dryly.

Of course she hasn't. It's just that her head is filled with so many things. It's not only this thing with Serena that's plaguing her thoughts. Being around Chuck is hard. So instead of playing his mind-games she rolls her eyes.

"Okay, let's go over this from the beginning," she sighs and sinks the last remains of her drink. "Am I to assume that Serena told me the entire story or is there more that you're keeping from me?"

He smirks and his voice is silky smooth when he whispers "Wouldn't dream of it, Waldorf."

For some reason, her breath hitches in her throat.

**-c-**

She's rested back against her fluffy pillows and she keeps yawning like a kitten behind her manicured hand. It's well after 1am and he should leave.

But he doesn't.

Instead he keeps searching for the last of the information they need, aided by his blackberry. And even though his back is killing him, he stays seated on the floor. His head is leaned back towards the chair behind him and while killing off his third drink – thank god Dorota was easily convinced – he eyes her in silence.

The last hour, Blair's seemed anxious and a bit on edge and he almost feels guilty for handing over her prescription meds to Serena. He figures that it was those containers that Blair looked for earlier when she basically turned her Alexander McQueen purse upside down. But he had needed to find out exactly what she was putting into her body, and as soon as he got out of here he'd call the Bass family's private physician and ask him. At least Dr. Marlowe knew what the concept of _privacy_ meant. Blair's precious Dr. Sherman wasn't exactly known for keeping quiet. Especially not when offered cash.

Blair yawns again. In the corner of his eye he watches her eyelids drop and she flinches and sits up more, but after a couple of minutes it happens again. He's tired too and the third time her head lolls back on the pillow, he puts his glass aside. He waits another couple of minutes until he's sure she's sleeping and then he gets to his feet.

Silently he turns off the computer and his phone, then he puts the glasses and the bottle just outside the door for Dorota.

Most people found the woman a little scary but he's quite fond of her. Not just because she's one of very few that has the guts to try and make him behave – he smiles at the memory of her slapping him over the head with a towel earlier in the kitchen – but also because he knows that however cold Blair acts about it, Blair loves the woman to death.

He closes the door again and backtracks quietly to the bed. Blair looks almost angelic lying on the bedspread and he frowns.

Angelic – his ass.

He knows that lying down beside her is a mistake. Just like the night when he brought her to Brooklyn-boy's house, he _should_ leave before it gets even worse. But of course he doesn't. Instead he spreads out behind her on the bed, stubbornly keeping his act together.

It shouldn't be that hard, right?

He's Chuck _Bass_.

He lies awake for almost twenty minutes, listening to the even breaths while trying to decide whether or not to put his arm around her. And when he finally gives in and simply lets his arm snake around her waist before carefully pulling her a little closer to him, she sighs almost contently in her sleep. The sudden stab in the chest is unexpected and he breathes in through clenched teeth. The feel of her and the scent, the familiar sound she lets out when he holds her... all of it hits him like an elbow in the gut. The butterflies lift and scatter inside his ribcage like frightened bats.

But he stays put. Even glides his fingertips up and down her naked arm and kisses her hair. He knows that the whole situation is out of character for him, but he doesn't care.

This, when Blair Waldorf is succumbed to sleep, might be the only time he's allowed to hold her.

And more importantly;

No one, except for some lost and battered butterflies, will know.

**January 28****th**** 2008**

**-****b-**

She wakes up before the alarm clock like always, at first not sure what it had been that woke her up. Maybe it's the countless mornings of being woken up by Dorota at exactly six thirty sharp that makes it impossible to oversleep? Or maybe it's simply to avoid the shrill sound. She _does_ hate that alarm with a vengeance.

No, it's probably just the pain in her stomach.

The room is still dim and she groans tiredly and pushes her face deeper into the pillow without opening her eyes. It's weird how pain can feel comforting she thinks and assesses the hunger churning inside her. But it does. The pain tells her that she's in control.

Puffs of warm air hit her cheek and there's a familiar scent registering in her mind. Jean-Paul Gaultier's, _Fleur du Mâle_ lingers with the scent of Scotch. Something is heavily draped over her waist and it's not the covers...

She opens her eyes and she blinks surprised at the sight of Chucks face, very close to her own. At first she just holds her breath and stares. The high cheekbones, the sharp angle of his jaw, the way his full lips pout a little with every breath.

For a short second she thinks that he looks almost angelic when he sleeps and she fights the urge to raise her hand and brush that boyishly unruly hair from his eyes. But then she remembers that he's never been an angel.

Chuck Bass is the devil reincarnated.

So she does the required thing that should have been spontaneous and instant. She recoils and gasps. Shoots up into sitting position and then she slaps him. She's fully aware that no one is watching them, but the masks still needs to be upheld.

"Aow!"

He flinches, suddenly awake too, and then he frowns in that way that only Chuck can – making it seem as if she's to blame for something and not him. He's such a baby. She didn't hit him overly hard or even in the face, just a 'spontaneous' slap across the arm that seconds ago had been around her body. Then she flings herself out of the bed and while he looks around all disoriented, she blurts out an incoherent;

"What? Where the _hell_... Bass! Why?"

He yawns and sighs tiredly. "We were up late plotting against Georgina. We must have dozed off." He makes it sound as if this is perfectly normal. As if him sleeping in her bed happens regularly. But it doesn't. Not anymore. Not since he told her straight out that he didn't want her.

"You were on the floor!" she snaps with a lot less fury than she tried to conjure and just as she expects, he smirks.

"Yeah, well I didn't want to hurt my back."

"Why?" Her eyebrow rises with the question. "It's not like you ever do anything even close to athletic."

"Uhm... That's not entirely true, now is it?"

She almost smiles as she picks up the sexual innuendo. And for a moment she allows herself to pretend that they are fine. That they are still friends and that this is just their normal banter.

Maybe Chuck sees her sudden vulnerability because his smirk widens and she snaps again. "Fine! Nothing that requires removing your scarf."

"That was _one_ time," he drawls and trails his eyes over her form in a way that makes her feel naked. "It was _chilly_."

He doesn't look away and it doesn't take long before his eyes on her body make her feel uncomfortable. She huffs annoyed and squirms under his gaze. "Enough about the past," she mutters, "Before you landed in my bed, I distinctly remember us landing on a good idea."

He nods. Purses his lips in that typical way that just screams superiority and gets up from the bed. "Yeah I trust you can take it from here," he drawls. "I have an English essay to write and no time to write it..."

"Don't worry. I can be bitch enough for both of us."

The ice that should be imbedded in her voice just isn't coming through and she raises her chin and tries to make her stare cold. But his smirk never falters. It's as if his skin is too thick to be penetrated.

"Believe me, I know..." he chuckles, "I still have the scars on my back to prove it."

Then he walks closer to her and the lesser the space between them, the more her pulse speeds up. She _hates_ to admit it, but his presence still makes her nervous and flushed. One more step and now he's almost close enough to touch her. His eyes seem to soften and unconsciously she holds her breath.

"I don't want you to go head to head with Georgina, Blair," he mutters with a more serious tone than she's expected. "Stick to the plan we made, alright?"

She frowns and sighs. Suddenly he has that unreadable expression from last night. The one that makes her feel like a child.

"I can take care of myself, Chuck," she mumbles and looks away. She wants to move backwards but that would just tell him that he makes her uncomfortable and she doesn't want that. After all, she's a Waldorf and he's a Bass. She's Blair and he's Chuck and Blair always wins.

Always.

But he takes one more step and now he's so close that she can literally feel his breath fan over her face.

"Really?" he breathes. "Yet you make it very clear that you need to be taken care of." His eyes rake her frame. "Don't you, Waldorf?"

He's wrong. She doesn't need him or anyone else. She just needs to lose a few more pounds to make it to an even number. She's going to get rid of Georgina and then she's just going to shed five more pounds.

Her eyes flick away from his and for a second she catches her own reflection in the vanity mirror. She shudders unnoticeably. Just five. Just so that her body stops disgusting her and so that she can regain control.

"I'm fine, Bass," she states firmly. "Go write your essay."

Then she turns and walks towards her bathroom, hating that the pain in her stomach is traded to a ball of burning tears.

What hurts the most in that moment is that however much she wants to; she can't hate _him_. She just hates that Chuck Bass makes her weaker than lack of food ever could.

**February ****1****st**** 2008 **

**-c-**

A lot of times lately he's wondered when Nathaniel stopped caring about Blair to the extent where he stopped _seeing_ her. And the only two answers he's come up with is that either his friend never really started caring. Or he was just not able to see her regardless.

Because if he had, then he should have reacted when the upper eastside princess went from being a shy and insecure round-faced girl, to a sharp edged, self-destructive and model thin queen. Any normally intelligent person should have realized that something was fishy back when Blair Waldorf dropped four sizes in just a couple of months.

But not good ol' Nathaniel Archibald.

And to be fair; Blair and Nate had been a match-made relationship from the start, arranged by Mrs. Archibald and Mrs. Waldorf when they were all still kids, and Nathaniel never realized that he could decide for himself. It was probably okay as long as being a couple meant holding hands and sitting at the same table at lunch, but with age more things came into play.

Still, he can't understand how Nathaniel Archibald managed to stay blind and naïve when things started going down the drain. And he doesn't agree with his stepsister, who's currently stalking him over the school grounds to try to convince him that getting Nathan to help out with Blair would be a good idea.

"Maybe if he knew how serious this was, he'd be able to talk to her?" Serena whines. "You and Blair can hardly be in the same room. And with me she avoids this topic like the plague." Blue eyes that are way too begging meets his. "Come on, Chuck? What Blair is doing is _dangerous_. Nate is the only choice if we're not going to tell Elenore."

"And why aren't we doing that again?"

His eyebrow arcs half-curiously, half-sarcastic, because they've gone over this before and they're not agreeing.

"Chuck!" Serena whines and stomps her foot like an petulant child, "Blair will kill us if we do that. She'll never talk to me again. Plus, I'm not sure that Elenore can do much. She'll call Dr. Sherman and we both know how much that's helped."

At least they agree on that.

"Forget Archibald," he mumbles and grabs his scarf. "He has his plate full."

Serena raises her brow, "With what?"

God, does he have to explain every single thing?

Sighing, he leans against the wall and lights a cigarette. He ignores her question at first. Breathes in and lets the grey wisps of smoke out in small controlled rings that widen and dissolve in the morning air. Then he brings out his most sarcastic voice.

"Well, he's in senior year of high school of course and all the homework is tough for him." He nods for emphasis. "He has a crazy dependent mother, one _bitch_ of an ex that doesn't want to play along anymore and a sinister best friend that he can't decide if he wants to hang out with…" he chuckles in a somewhat bored manner, "Plus, he's also secretly still obsessed with a hot one wedding-night stand he had two years ago, and his father's hiding out in the Dominican Republic to evade embezzlement charges and a nasty coke habit."

She looks confused and he has to remind himself that he should talk slower. This is Serena, not Blair, and his future step-sister is not always as sharp as he would like.

"I'm sorry to say it sis, but Nathaniel is of no help for us right now," he mutters to clarify the obvious. "Even if the last remaining piece of Nate's head wasn't currently shoved up Vanessa's ass, he still wouldn't prioritize this. He doesn't _care_ if Waldorf's sick. Remember last time?"

Serena's eyebrow finally falls. Annoyed expression traded for a sad one.

"You mean last month at the Spring-term mixer?"

He frowns.

"No, S. I mean when she got _sick_ the last time. He had to have known, right? And still the guy did nothing."

"I'm not sure he did know, Chuck," she answers. "Blair's parents and I were the only ones that knew. Blair didn't want Nate to find out she wasn't perfect…"

Perfect?

The cigarette burns down slowly and he watches as the paper turns into grey ashes. "He's my best friend, but honestly –," he clenches his jaw, "Honestly he's either more naïve than I thought, or he simply doesn't care. And either way, he's of no help so just drop the thought, okay sis?"

He takes one last drag off of his cigarette stump before flicking it down the stairs. The schoolyard is empty and he pushes himself off the wall and straightens his scarf. He's late for his Chemistry class but school is the last thing on his mind.

"And you weren't the _only_ ones that knew…" he mutters as he leaves the blonde standing there.

_He_ had noticed it too. But back then he thought more of Nathaniel. Thought that Nate would handle it, while he stood aside and kept telling himself that it was none of his business. Blair had Nate and Serena, and back then, butterflies had just been beautiful winged insects, not vicious creatures residing inside his chest.

But that was before the Sheppard's wedding. Before the lies started and before Blair's dad skipped off to France with another man.

He subconsciously clenches his fist before straightening his fingers so that his knuckles make cracking sounds, then he rolls his head and makes the same noise with vertebras in his neck. He has hardly talked to Blair since he left her apartment three days ago. They've simply traded a couple of words in passing and some information about Georgina through cell phone texts. And today most of her part of their plan is supposed to have been carried out.

Mr. and Mrs. Sparks will be at his hotel-suite in two hours and all he has to do is get Georgie to turn up as well.

Which won't be a problem of course. A simple call had sufficed, one that held a promise of the thing Georgina lives for – money.

In two hours, the 'package' will be wrapped and sent off to a hardcore rehabilitation-facility for the troubled youth, handpicked by queen Blair herself. Come tomorrow they'll all have at least one problem less.

But as he walks in through the school entrance and makes a right to turn into the halls of St. Jude's, he sees Nathaniel standing over by the stairs to Constance Billiards, chatting away with that little tramp Jenny Humphrey. And the irritation that still lingers after his conversation with Serena flares up again.

"Archibald," he calls coldly and watches as the golden boy turns around at the sound of his voice. "A word, please."

It's not a question and Nate knows it. Yet his best friend hesitates and looks back and forth between him and the trashy little Brooklyn-tramp as if he has options. Then finally, Nathaniel nods in acceptation and trots over to where he's waiting.

"What's up, Chuck?"

His friend says it as if everything is normal and the world is just steadily turning on its axel. In a way it makes him envy the guy and he clenches his jaw as he scans Nathaniel's features while trying to decide if Serena is right. If they should enlist Archibald to their efforts.

"My father is hosting a fundraiser tonight at the hotel," he drawls in a manufactured bored tone and waves his hand down the hall as a signal for Nate to walk with him towards class. "Meet me for a few drinks there. I have something that I need to discuss with you."

Again, it's not a question, and Nate nods, although still with some hesitance.

"Sure, man. Mom says I have to go anyway. What do we need to talk about? Is everything okay?"

Is everything _okay_?

When in hell had things last been even close to that?

He squints at Nathaniel's response and purses his lips for a second. He still feels that Serena is wrong and that just mentioning the brunette will make Nathaniel ice up like a popsicle. But he's running out of options.

"We'll handle it over scotch," he mutters. " I'll make arrangements for a private table."

Then he walks into their classroom, groaning inwardly when realizing that he just dug a new hole for himself.

How the hell is he going to avoid his father when he just made drink-plans with Nathaniel at the Bart Bass fundraiser?

**-b-**

The text finally comes at a quarter past two and she breathes out silently.

_Picking __G up in thirty - C_

Her hand trembles as she replies, so badly that she almost drops the phone, but she manages to get the simple "_I'll b there_" sent. Then she texts Serena–who's currently in French class across the hall–and tells the blonde that she won't have to worry about Miss Sparks further, before she puts the phone back in her purse. She's been unable to concentrate all morning and her neck is stiff due to tensing her shoulders for hours on end.

Not that she didn't think that Chuck could pull this off. If Georgina listens to anyone's command, it's probably to Chuck Bass'. She's just skittish in general and so tired. Honestly, she's been more worried that she would be the one to screw this up.

Lately she forgets things. She gets lightheaded, distracted and disoriented and then paranoid that she has let important things slip through her fingers. The worry leads to irritation and anxiety but as of last night, she has ways to deal with it. She now has replacement for the Lexapro that had mysteriously disappeared from her bag last week.

"Mrs. Green?" she says calmly, her manicured hand raised in the air, "May I be excused?"

"Any particular reason for this interruption, Miss Waldorf?"

"I have a dentist appointment." She smiles sweetly, forcing herself to ignore the dizzy-spell and the bead of sweat that slowly slides down the back of her neck. "I have a note."

She does. One forged by Dorota this very morning.

Her head is pounding and her palms feel clammy and cold. And when Mrs. Green nods sourly, she stands up and grabs her purse. On the way down the hall she even allows to steady herself with her hand against the wall. It's probably filthy but it's better than making a nosedive to the dirty floor and her legs have been a little wobbly all morning.

It's nerves – once she has Georgina sent off to that camp, she'll feel better – but she still stops and retrieves the container of pills, quickly popping two in her mouth before continuing down the hall and out the entrance.

She can't afford to be a nervous wreck right now.

**-c-**

"As promised, you'll get ten thousand dollars in cash," he drawls and waits while Georgina Sparks steps out of his limousine. "That should suffice you for a while."

Probably not longer than a week, since Blair's research had showed that little miss sunshine is on the run from her parents and is still nursing a nasty coke habit, but it won't matter. There won't be any drugs to buy where she's going.

"Who would've thought that _you'd_ be the savior, huh?" Georgina chuckles up at him and steps gingerly over the puddles on the sidewalk as if she hasn't got a single worry in the world. "Is Serena letting you fuck her in return for this pay-off?" The quirk of her eyebrow that follows is about as innocent as he's a virgin.

"Disgusting…" he mutters back and offers a calculated nod to the doorman. But the little witch, following close behind him, giggles.

"Really, Chuck? Since when does the Upper East Side's biggest man-whore say no to nailing Serena van der Woodsen? You've been chasing that since I popped your cherry."

"Since we are about to be _siblings_, you inane fool. Now lower your voice. We're at my father's hotel!"

With a straight back he walks through the lobby but Georgina snickers. He can't wait to wipe that smug look off her face. Just a little while longer…

"You could've just wired the money to my account, you know?" she smirks as they step into the elevator. "Buying me off to protect your new stepsister seems awfully out of character for you, Bass. Are you sure that this isn't about you wanting to get laid? Running low on willing pussy, are we?"

The elderly lady coming out through the doors looks at them with a shocked and disapproving expression and against his better judgment, the corners of his lips lift slightly at that. But it soon falters. Georgina is as crude as Blair seems pristine.

Once, he liked that about the girl standing next to him. Now he finds her lack of class appalling.

"You're different, Chuck," Georgina suddenly says and tilts her head to the side in curiosity, "I can't put a finger on what it is…" Her fingertip rests against her bottom lip, tapping it lightly as if underlying her statement. "Something is just…off?"

The elevator doors slide shut around them and he purses his lips and squints at her, trying to figure out how he should be feeling about that comment. But then he quickly forces his features into a well-used, condescending leer.

"Come now, Georgie…" he says in a low velvety voice, "You know me. I'll _never_ change."

The elevator pings and stops at the floor of his suite and once the doors open, he waves his hand and does his best gentleman impersonation, "After you, mademoiselle."

She frowns but walks out into the corridor, with its expensive carpets and chandelier lights. And he keeps his steps paced with hers as the walk towards the door marked 1812.

"You're not entirely unintelligent," he drawls out in his most velvety voice just to placate her, because he can't have her turn suspicious now and Georgina Sparks has always been very observant. "Of course you can understand that this little circus that you were about to unleash on Serena, comes at the worst time with my father's pending wedding." He chuckles darkly. "He is marrying Lily van der Woodsen after all."

"Aww the poor Bass-family. Always so concerned with the gossip…" Georgina singsongs and plays with her hair. "Well, as soon as I get the money, you'll get this." She waves the brown envelope she's carrying, in his face. "_All_ the picture proof."

He almost laughs out loud. She must _really_ think he's stupid. It's the 21st century and pictures are digital for fucks sake. Who gives a crap about some paper copies? If he was the least bit serious about this he would never offer her money without getting more than that envelope, but Georgina's whole scheme is a hoaks.

When Serena first clued him in on the whole thing he had honestly been worried. His dearest step-sister has a history of getting herself into quite the bit of a mess. But even before he met up with Blair to plot the demise of Miss Sparks, he knew that this was minor. None of the crap that Georgie had tried to blackmail Serena with would have held. The guy's death was unfortunate but not at all Serena's fault. Therefore, even the pictures in Georgina's hand are useless.

All this is just so that they can get rid of the annoying little bitch and concentrate on more important matters.

The card-key slides easily into the slot and he prays silently that Blair is in position. Had it been up to him, the brunette wouldn't have been involved in this at all – and it has nothing to do with caring about her – she's just not _fit_ for these schemes right now.

But a second later he's closing the door behind himself and Georgina, watching Blair saunter around the corner from his bedroom, and he stays firmly placed in front of the suite's only exit. Just to make sure that Georgina doesn't bolt.

"Blair _Waldorf_!"

The name falls of Georgina's lips sounding like a curse. Serena's old partner in crime glares at Blair and then her eyes flicker over to him and the closed door. "What the fuck is this, Chuck?" she snaps, "Where's my money?"

"Tsk, tsk… watch that language, Georgie."

Blair smirks and her voice is calm and condescending, but he doesn't like the dark circles under her eyes. Or how pale she looks. "It's been a long time. Bored with Europe already?"

"What the hell are you doing here, Waldorf?" Georgina spits back like a cornered wildcat. "Chuck is already paying me off. You don't have to come cover up your precious little Serena's mistakes." She twists back to him again. "Just give me my fucking money!"

"There, there, Georgina," Blair's condescending tone almost sounds up to par with her usual bitchiness, "hasn't anyone told you? You're not supposed to blackmail people. Especially not when you don't have the upper hand."

He almost feels sorry for Georgina right then – that is if it was a feeling he was capable of – because right at that moment, Mr. and Mrs. Spark step out of the bedroom and Georgina's face turns ash-white. Even paler than Blair's.

"Mom? Dad? But wha–"

"_There_ you are, sweetie," Mrs. Sparks says in a cold voice. "We've been looking for you."

He can feel his shoulders losing the tension as Mr. Sparks grabs Georgina's arm and yanks her with him out the door, followed by his wife. He nods apologetically towards the couple, not missing the glares from Georgina and the silent promise of revenge in that look.

The whole thing takes less than ten minutes and as he closes the door behind the Sparks family he mutters, "At least _one_ problem is fixed." They should call Serena and tell her. As a matter of fact he's sure that if he'd turn around, he'd see Blair with her cell phone in her hand, already dialing his future step-sister's number. He bets that this is all giving her a thrill.

He loosens his scarf and hangs up his Burberry coat. It's not even four o'clock in the afternoon but he's exhausted. Plus, he needs a drink. _Bad_.

But when he does turn around, there's no phone in Blair's hand. She seems to be almost slumped against the wall, hands shaking so bad that he can see it from over where he's standing.

She also looks really pale.

"Waldorf," he says and takes a step towards her, "Are you alright?"

Her trembling hand unconsciously flattens out non-existent wrinkles in her plaid Constance Billiard's skirt, monotonously, as if the repeated gesture brings her comfort. The tiny spark that had been there in her eyes while confronting Georgie is gone again and she looks a little lost.

"I don't feel so good…" she mumbles and sways a little.

He groans.

_Stupid girl_.

"Have you eaten anything _at all_ today, Blair? Coffee doesn't fucking count!"

He spits out the last part in an angry voice because he _feels_ angry. Furious, even. It's clear as day that she's starving herself now – instead of eating and vomiting like the little bulimic that she is. And he's pissed off at her for it. She's not supposed to do this!

She sways again and her hand comes up to rest on the wall for support.

"What? Are you going to faint on me now?" he adds venomously when she doesn't answer. "Do I have to take you to the fucking hospital?" He's not even sure why he sounds so harsh, but it might have something to do with the fact that now–just as when he followed Serena and Brooklyn-boy into that bar and found Blair semi-unconscious on the floor–the stupid butterflies in his chest turn into chips of ice, making his insides feel heavy and cold.

He doesn't _want_ to care but she scares him. _This_ scares him.

"I just need to sit down," she claims stubbornly and slowly walks towards the couch in his suite. Then she sits down, still with a straight back so that she won't lose her perfect appearance, and he glares at her. Wonders what he can do in this situation. If there's anything that she'd willingly eat, or if she's acting like this because she doesn't have her 'drugs'?

He wishes that he knew more about her fucked up habits because it scares him that he really has no clue what shape she's in. Evidently she's been sick for a long time but not even Serena seems to know for how long exactly. His soon to be step-sister had been under the impression that Dr. Sherman–the damn quack–had cured Blair the first time around and that she had been healthy ever since then.

And maybe she had been better, for a while at least, because he's fairly certain that she hadn't been puking or starving herself during the weeks when he _occasionally 'spent time in bed' _with her... but Blair is a brilliant schemer, a master of deception, and now–in retrospect–he really can't be sure if she was ever really well.

All he knows is that Blair Waldorf is too thin, too pale and doesn't seem to care one bit about what she's doing to herself.

He's also scared that he won't be able to avoid the fucking fluttering much longer. All this damn 'babysitting' is ruining his plans of staying away from her and even when Blair is pale and shaky and probably has her whole head filled with plans on how to destroy herself further, he still wants to kiss her.

He still wants to take her to his bed, undress her and literally worship her body until she gets it into that thick head of hers that she's _beautiful_. But she's so fucking broken and vulnerable, even when she tries her hardest to be strong. And he just doesn't know how to make her believe him when she just keeps shooting him down. He's still wounded from the first time he tried and she verbally kicked him in the nuts.

He shakes that thought away and repeats his question slowly, balling his hands into fists.

"What did you eat today, Waldorf?"

"I had breakfast."

"Really?" He lifts his eyebrow sarcastically to that vague response. "Eggs? Bacon? Maybe some toast?"

She looks disgusted, almost as if she's picturing the food drenches in saturated fats and grease. "Don't be ridiculous," she mutters and clasps her shaking hands together in her lap.

"Then _what_, Blair?"

"I had grapes."

Frowning, he looks at her. Clenches his jaw hard to lock in the insults that are about to spill from his mouth. _Oh you, stupid stubborn reckless little bitch!_ _Are you a fucking idiot? Did you puke those up as well?_ And it's not until he tastes blood that he realizes that he's been biting the inside of his cheek and he releases the pierced flesh in disgust. Then he stalks over to the sofa and he squints in anger as he stops right in front of her.

"I've had enough of this," he hisses and grabs her frail wrist tightly, yanking her up on her feet. "You need medical care. I can't fucking deal with this."

It's not within his character to be caring and soft so she really shouldn't expect that from him. Usually he's calm, cold and calculating. Often condescending and sarcastic. But seeing her like this makes him turn to red hot anger instead, even though he knows that it's the wrong way to go.

Her legs are still wobbly and she stumbles into him when he practically drags her towards the door, but her jaw tightens in that typical stoic 'Queen Blair' way and she tries her hardest to pull her arm from his grip.

"What are you talking about, Chuck?" she protests loudly, "Are you insane? Why would I need medical care. There's nothing wrong with me!"

"Exactly!" he bellows back. "There is _nothing_ wrong with you! But you don't seem to be able level with that thought! You seem to think–," his voice lowers into a cold hiss that goes much better with his usual behavior, "–that _everything_ is wrong with you. Why else would you be doing all this shit to yourself?"

She freezes, her feet planted firmly to the floor refusing to move, and when she starts blurting out ridiculous excuses, he simply groans in frustration because she really can't think that he'll believe that crap.

"Two choices, Blair," he gets out between clenched teeth, "I'll give you _two_ choices. Either fucking start eating willingly and I'm not talking about a few fucking grapes! Or I will personally carry you kicking and screaming to a physician that can _force_ you to get well!"

He's breathing hard, furious that she doesn't understand that this is all he can do at this point, but she simply stares back at him in open challenge.

"You would never do that. This is your father's hotel. You would never cause a scene like that in the lobby."

"Don't tempt me, Blair. I have no scruples what so ever. You of all people should know that."

It's a battle of titans, even with her looking like a ghost and trembling like a leaf. She still challenges him with just the stubbornness in her eyes – and however sick and twisted it is, it makes him relieved. The 'emptiness' is what freaks him out the most.

"Don't be ridiculous," she chastises him in her usual superior voice. "You couldn't even carry me past the door. I'd scream."

"Do I look like I'd _care_?"

Her face is so close to his and when he takes another step in to diminish the space between them, she almost unnoticeably sucks in a breath. For a second he thinks he sees disappointment flicker in her eyes and then she bites out, "No, of course not. Why would you ever?"

_Christ_, he just wants to lean in and suck that red pouty bottom lip of hers in between his teeth. Force her to fold with his mouth and tongue. Make her gasp and beg. But the fucked up thing is that in the midst of it all, he can actually read the undertone in her question – what she is really saying with those last four words– and it makes his anger blow up in hot flames all over again.

She's actually imploring that _he_ is the insensitive one in this.

"Are you going to eat?" he growls, his short fingernails digging into her thin wrist.

Her chin rises an inch and her face is cold. "You would never understand."

"Is that a no?"

Ten seconds of silence pass. He knows because he counts them out in his head. And when she still hasn't answered when his self-decided timeframe is up, he twists his face into a grim smirk and turns her quickly so that he can lock her body in a tight grip.

"Suit yourself," he mutters and makes sure her arms are locked at her sides so that she can't scratch him or hit him. "Fucking suit yourself."

---**x**---

* * *

**AN:** I bet you all thought i'd given up on this? LOL Well, nope. So I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Oh, and superbig thanks to Elena as always. And to Robin, who without even knowing it, kicked my ass into gear. XOXO.


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